


Five Nights at Freddy's: Another Side

by StartersoverLegends



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-03-09 11:44:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18916309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StartersoverLegends/pseuds/StartersoverLegends
Summary: When you're desperate for money, there isn't much you wouldn't do to make a buck. But to work at a place as bad as Freddy Fazbear's Pizza you'd have to be totally crazy- at least that's what one night guard thought, before he realized that the rewards of the job might just be worth it. That is, if he can survive.





	1. The New Freddy Fazbear's

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there. This is a story that I started writing in late 2014. I've grown a lot since then, and as such, have started a full revision of the whole 300K word story. By doing this, Another Side will more accurately fit my current writing style and preferences. I wasn't initially going to post it to AO3, but figured that I had no reason not to. I hope you enjoy!

My eyes rapidly flickered from the monitor in my lap to the dark doorways on either side of me. My heart was hammering, beating loudly enough that I could actually _hear_ my own pulse. Cold sweat ran down my face as I lowered my gaze from the doorways, having made sure that they were still empty, before again focusing on the tablet clutched in my hands. Not wasting a second, I cycled through the multiple camera feeds to locate my pursuers- a difficult task, given that the screen was violently trembling in my hold.

_This is insane! No- more like impossible!_

Seeing that the wandering abominations hadn't covered too much ground yet, I let out a relieved sigh and allowed my tense body to lean back in my chair. According to the tablet-like device that I was given to monitor the security cameras with, I only had about 70% of my power left- and it was _barely_ past two o'clock. _Great_.

I didn't know for sure what would happen if the power went out, just that it was probably in my best interest to keep the lights on. The pressure of the absurd situation was making me panic, and even though this reaction was completely warranted, I knew that not thinking straight could easily get me caught. With that in mind, I took a few deep breaths to calm myself as I inspected my new office- though in that moment, I couldn't help but think that maybe the word "deathbed" was more apt.

I was sitting in a surprisingly comfortable leather chair that rested against the back wall of a small security room. In front of me was a large wooden desk holding a few random monitors, flashing and blinking in intervals, as well as a small buzzing fan that struggled to stir the space's muggy air. Hanging on the wall behind the desk were a collection of company posters, each featuring large smiling animatronics; a yellow chicken named Chica, a purple bunny named Bonnie, and lastly, Freddy Fazbear. He was the frontman for the group, and as the name suggests, a scruffy brown bear. The trio were iconic, especially in this town, for being the animatronic members of the Freddy Fazbear Band- as well as this restaurant's only real appeal to customers. To the outside world they were cute cartoonish characters, which was a perception that I shared until recently- as recently as the start of my first shift, in fact- though now it was hard to even see their faces without being overcome by dread. With that said, I let out a rattling breath and averted my eyes to favor the rest of the room.

The walls to either of my sides were nearly identical, sporting a large metal doorframe beside two buttons that read 'Light' and 'Door' respectively. After some experimenting, I now knew that the light button would illuminate the hall momentarily to reveal any threats, while the door one would abruptly close off the entryway with a thick slab of steel. These safety features helped me to calm down a bit, but it was hard to completely relax seeing as I only had a limited amount of power to make it to six o'clock.

In a life-and-death situation it's hard not to wonder what series of events led you to that particular moment. For me, I guess, it all started when I was just a kid… Back then, I used to come to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza as often as I possibly could, despite the fact that it had been a small and somewhat dingy pizza parlor. It seemed to have had more problems than upsides at the time, though it had _one_ great thing going for it: the aforementioned animatronic band. There was also a fourth animatronic that was kept separate from the main performers- Foxy the Pirate Fox. Her act was musical and fun in its own right, though she never seemed to have the same following that the others did.

I can remember laughing and playing like all the other kids my age as our parents- or guardians, in my case- held polite conversation at the waited tables. To me, the Pizzeria was about the coolest place on earth; they had arcade games and a ball pit, a seemingly endless supply of pizza and soda, as well as performing animatronic animals that were surprisingly high-tech for the time. An example of this would be how Freddy and his friends would walk around and interact with the customers whenever they weren't playing poppy, pizza-themed music. Looking back at it now, it was kind of strange that the animatronics had a free-roaming mode, but its draw was undeniable. Sometimes I would even go as far as to hold hands with the roaming animatronics, singing and exploring the restaurant with them... After all, who else was I supposed to play with? Not that I should complain, given that tagging along with robots seemed more fun than hanging out with the other kids anyway, but I never had much in the way of friends.

Some of my best memories were held in that pizzeria, spending time with the band and eating junk food... But then they closed. Back then I hadn't known why, though years later I learned that it had to do with a group of missing children that were somehow linked to the company. Apparently the news had whipped into a frenzy over the event, and heads rolled within Fazbear Entertainment as they scrambled to recover from the blow.

Regardless of the bad press, it wasn't long until Freddy's re-opened. They had moved into a larger building and even invested in some new animatronics, including a new and "improved" Freddy Fazbear band. Personally, I never really cared for the new 'Toy' models. They all looked so plastic and fake, and somehow seemed more mechanical than friendly. Especially this one puppet-like animatronic… It looked about as far-removed from the rest of the lineup as you could get, as its tear-streaked mask and tall, slender body gave off a sinister vibe- a sense that threatened to undo its cheerful role as a gift-giver, though the other kids didn't seem phased by its _unique_ design choice. They all seemed to love the puppet, but I couldn't help but be creeped out by it.

Later that day I had learned that the original Freddy Fazbear and company had been put away as spare parts. I was heartbroken by the news, and for the first time in my whole life, I asked if we could leave Freddy's before it was time to go. It just wasn't the same anymore.

Since then, Freddy Fazbear's has closed and re-opened twice- the second restaurant went under after one of the animatronics bit a staff member. I was still really young when it happened, so I don't remember all of the details… Only that the staff survived but the company was once again forced to shut their doors. However, just when it looked like Freddy's was done for, history repeated itself. This time the company's salvation came in the form of a wealthy benefactor- an eccentric individual, no doubt- who donated enough money for another restaurant to open. Only the four original animatronics were kept as the new location opened, however, and nobody knows for sure what became of the Toy models- some say that they were sold for parts, while others insist that they still remain decommissioned somewhere within the pizzeria.

Then there was the last "closing". I use that term lightly, since no catastrophic event took place that forced the company into shutting down. Much the opposite, it was an upgrade. The animatronics that they still had were in disrepair after so many years of constant use, not to speak of their recent neglect. They were less than pleasant to look at, and had acquired an array of technical malfunctions ever since they were replaced by the Toy animatronics at the second location. Taking this as well as the cramped building into consideration, the CEO of Fazbear Entertainment decided that it was time for the company to get back on their own feet. Thus came the fourth Freddy Fazbear's Pizza… And my new job.

This building was much larger than the previous, and the animatronics had apparently been patched up and redesigned. Technically, they were still the same robots that were used at the very first pizzeria- only with repairs for their neglect, slight changes to their technology, and external modifications that made them more pleasant to look at. Not that I would know from experience, as all that I had seen of them was through security cameras in dim lighting.

I was snapped out of my thoughts as I heard a loud crash in a nearby room. The sound made me jump in the chair as I scrambled for the monitor in my lap, turning it on and cycling through the cameras once again. The first few feeds seemed completely normal, and so I started to relax… That was, until I switched to the camera placed outside of the security office door. At first it was a dark feed lit only by two light dots, which was strange since I vividly remembered seeing a corner there before. It was only when the two white lights shifted downward that I realized what was going on- it wasn't a dead screen, the feed was just blocked by a dark face with glowing eyes.

Eyes that were now trained on my door.

I quickly mashed the button that activated the hall light before peeking out of the door, wanting to be absolutely sure that I wasn't just seeing things. After all, I didn't have enough power to just close the doors whenever I wanted… As nice as that would be. I swallowed at the lump in my throat as I scanned the hallway for any movement. It was only after a tense moment of quiet passed that I began to question either the camera or my sanity.

I had just started turning my head to check the tablet again when I caught some movement in my periphery. My neck snapped to look in that direction, and I felt my heart skip a beat at what I saw; running from the darkness of the hall was a large shadow, tall with shining eyes. It charged in my direction at an incredible speed, its feet thumping against the floor in a rhythm that quickly gained pace with each step. My widened eyes immediately began looking the form over, though its speed and the sudden failure of the door light kept me from seeing anything definitive- just two arms that eagerly reached toward me in time with its approach.

An unmanly scream escaped my throat as I stumbled backward. Seeing it charge forward petrified me, leaving my body immobile aside from an unconsciously heaving chest and violent tremors. My mind numbed in a fuzz of terror as misguided adrenalin flooded my system. Right then, at the worst possible moment, I became the human equivalent of a deer staring into oncoming traffic, stunned into stasis by the growing headlights.

Terrible images bombarded my mind, premonitions of me being forced into a mechanical suit, bones snapping and muscles tearing as wires and crossbeams impaled me from all directions. It was an awful and deeply uncomfortable prospect, though that discomfort was exactly what I needed to snap out of my daze.

The animatronic let out an ear-splitting shriek as it drew near to my office, and I knew that there was no time to waste. With a terror-driven lunge I flew toward the controls, and just as the creature was about to reach the threshold, I slammed a hand against the door button. The response came in the form of a heavy crash as the door lowered between me and my would-be killer, the impact sounding like that of an explosion in the empty building.

I slowly backed away from the door as the shriek was replaced by an aggravated mechanical roar, followed by several loud bangs on the metal that separated the animatronic from myself. My legs were shaking uncontrollably as I collapsed into the chair, my breathing rapid and heavy. With each pound on the door the lightbulb hanging above me flickered, and with eyes that widened in late realization, I cast a look down at the tablet.

" _What!?_ "

The cry of fearful disbelief hadn't been intentional. However, at seeing the large 20% on my power gauge- a number that fell further with each consecutive hit- I couldn't contain my dismay. There was plenty of anger in that regard as well- after all, I had done everything right and was _still_ in danger.

I watched helplessly as my power drained more... And more... Until it was right around the 5% mark.

_I sighed._ _Well, this is it._

The door shuddered with each impact, a blatant reminder of the robotic strength that was coming for me. I was terrified as well as pissed off, but also strangely amused. The rage that I felt toward this animatronic for outsmarting me was like that of a kid who had been cheated during a harmless game on the playground. The difference was that _this_ game was for my life, and by cheating, I was being run out of options.

As the power meter finally hit 1%, I cursed at the door, though the conviction in my voice wavered as it met fear. From there I was helpless but to grit my teeth and await the inevitable. Maybe it was that I had nothing to lose anymore, but I felt a defiant urge strike my fancy- a resolution to go down fighting, if nothing else. Getting anywhere in a physical altercation with a machine was slim-to-none, but at least I would die like an idiot rather than a coward.

My hands balled into fists at my sides as I glared at the door, my trembling body and heavy breathing likely to betray my true emotions. I was scared out of my mind for what might happen to me, sure, but didn't want to give this _thing_ the satisfaction of seeing me do what I really wanted to do in that moment- curl up into a ball and beg for my life. Not that it would matter… My murderer was to be an inanimate object who couldn't understand those sorts of things.

Time slowed, and I already knew what was coming next. There would be a bang and the door would be forced open, then that monster would come for me. At that thought, dread sabotaged my attempted image of strength. I reflexively jumped in my skin and clenched my eyes shut, my ears straining to hear the door open from over my shuddering breaths…

… But just then, something unbelievable happened. Something absolutely amazing, a possibility that I never would have seen coming given the circumstances.

Six o'clock arrived before my predator did.

I heard a set of rich chimes sound from the grandfather clock at the restaurant's entrance and slowly opened my eyes. The first thing I did was shoot a look down at the security tablet in disbelief, but it was true- I _actually_ made it until morning! Normally this wouldn't be such a relief, given that there was a bloodthirsty bunny/bear/chicken right outside my door, but my employee phone call had explicitly said that I would be safe if I survived until morning. Apparently, at six o'clock sharp the free-roaming mode is disabled, and the animatronics automatically return to the show stage for the day ahead.

_I did it..._ _I thought as my expression lifted into a grin,_ _I'm... Alive!_

I couldn't help but chuckle at my feat. I had been _so close_ to death, only to be saved at the last possible moment. My chuckle escalated into a giddy laugh as I heard the doors at the front of the building open. I took a few moments to enjoy the fact that I had survived before standing up from the chair and stretching. Despite me being up all night, I wasn't tired at all- probably because I was still riding an adrenaline high.

The power came back on with the end of the night. My curiosity piqued, I opened and looked out of the left door, but found no trace of any animatronic- discounting the poppy music that echoed from somewhere in the distance. I chuckled once more as I began to walk down the temporarily empty hall toward the building's entrance. As I reached the end of the hallway, I looked across the vast dining area of the building and found a familiar figure fiddling with a briefcase at the admittance counter. He must have heard my footsteps, because he flinched before wheeling around and staring at me through the empty room, his eyes growing wide.

He was a man who stood a hair shorter than me, with a receding hairline that contrasted his impressive waistline- no doubt the product of years spent eating the restaurant's greasy pizza. He gawked at me with blue eyes nestled behind a slim pair of spectacles, his mouth agape below them. It was an expression that I had yet to see from Mr. Fazbear- or so he had introduced himself when he hired me- as he was generally a very jovial and lighthearted sort of person. That energy had been abundant during my interview, and he had practically thrown the job into my arms without a single word being spoken of my qualifications. His eagerness to have me "join the fazfamily" had been a curiosity of mine ever since, though after spending a night here, I now understood why he was being so generous with the position.

An awkward moment passed before he finally broke the silence between us.

"Hey! Uh... _You_!"

"Me?" I asked out of habit that preceded the redundancy of my question.

"Yes, you!" He replied as he walked toward me, briefcase in hand, before gesturing for me to follow him back into the halls. I shrugged and complied, following the man partially back the way I had just come, though we stopped short at a closed door marked "Fazbear Office". Seeing that he was taking me into his office with no explanation, I assumed that he wanted to talk about last night… Good. After going through _that,_ I had a few words for him as well.

Mr. Fazbear held the door open for me before closing it behind us.

"Please, take a seat." He pulled a chair over for me as he passed and turned it toward his desk. I accepted, and soon after he sat in his own chair before picking up the conversation again.

"So, how was your first night on the job?" He asked with an enthusiastic light in his eyes.

"Honestly?" My eyes narrowed a bit, "Not what I expected."

"Oh... Really?" He slowly asked, "How so?"

" _How_ _so_?" I echoed sarcastically before leaning forward with a glare, "When you said that this was a security job, I thought I'd be chasing off thieves or keeping teens from graffitiing bad words on the walls. You didn't say a damn thing about animatronics trying to _kill_ me for six hours straight!"

Mr Fazbear sighed, though that was the full extent of his reaction. His poise in the face of confrontation gave the impression that he had dealt with this sort of situation before.

"Look..." He began after a moment, "I'm sorry that you're unhappy with my… _Selective_ description of the job, and I won't blame you for raising your voice at me. However, you show quite a bit of promise as a night watchman! I mean, you _actually_ made it through a whole shift! Unfortunately, most people don't even last _that_ long… They either quit prematurely, or… Well…"

"... They die." I answered for him, not trying to conceal the malice in my voice.

He coughed and raised a handkerchief to dab at his forehead. "Well… Yes, I suppose that's one way you could put it. If we could change the topic for a moment, could you tell me exactly why you decided to take this position?"

"Because I needed the money," I answered plainly, "I used to come to Freddy's all the time as a kid, so when I heard that they had a job opening, I thought it would be perfect- but that was before I found out that those robots are _killers_."

" _Animatronics._ " He corrected, "And they're not 'killers'... Look, they're just machines. Machines have glitches, and these machines' glitches just so happen to-"

"-Try to stuff people into suits!" I answered once again. Mr. Fazbear shot a worried look at the door, probably afraid that someone would hear what I was saying. Normally I would be more considerate to his feelings, though at that moment I couldn't deny that his discomfort was satisfying. After all, it was menial payback compared to what I had just gone through.

"Okay, okay, I see your reason for concern," He shot back in a low voice, "It's a very high-risk job. Ever since the animatronics began displaying this behavior, we've only had a handful of night guards make it. With that said, _you_ made it. _You_ somehow survived a night, and that is something that very few people can do. You are a true rarity!"

I chuffed. "You're saying that like it means something to me."

"It _should_ ," He insisted as a small smile tugged at his lips, "Because I'm willing to compensate for the danger of the job. If you continue to lend us your services, I'll pay you considerably more than what we agreed upon."

I snorted sarcastically. " _Nothing_ that you have to offer is worth putting my life on the line. That's that."

To my surprise, he chuckled while leaning back in his seat. "I'm sorry, but it seems to me that you desperately need this money. Is that right?"

I grimaced. It was true, I really _did_ need money. I could hardly afford to take care of myself, and with no higher education worth mentioning, I was having a rough time finding work in the dog-eat-dog world that was the job market.

"...Yes."

"I can help you." He offered, giving me his usual kind smile. "And I _want_ to help you. But in return you need to help me."

"Ok..." I answered slowly, "So what were you thinking?"

He grinned. "You keep working the night shift. I pay you five hundred a week. And, the icing on the cake: you can have all the pizza you want, on the house."

I hated that I couldn't keep the smile from my own face. I was furious with him, but he was very good at making himself seem like a friend- or, at the very least, not my enemy.

"You drive a hard bargain," I looked away and rubbed the back of my neck. "But I'm still unsure... I mean, one of those things almost got me last night. What if I get caught? I could use the pay, but it won't do me any good to _die_ for it."

"I'll tell you what," He started as he abruptly stood from his seat, "You agree to keep working for me and I'll show you all of the vents in the building that the animatronics can't get into. _My_ days of squeezing into those sorts of spaces might be behind me, but _you_ could use them without a problem. If things get really bad out there, you can just get away through those. Deal?"

I stared at his hand as he held it out for me to shake. He was offering me a lot... Money, food, and some tips that could make my working here a lot easier. I could tell that, just as I was desperate for money, _he_ was desperate for a good night guard. I _really_ , really, _really_ didn't want to come back, but what better choice did I have?

After a few moments of thought, I sighed in resignation. "Deal. But don't expect me to stay long, alright?"

He smiled as he extended his hand even further toward me, as if prompting me to seal my own fate. "Excellent! Glad to have you aboard, Mr…?"

I took his hand in my own and gave it a firm shake. "My name's Dustin Juniper."

* * *

**_Earlier that night, in a deserted part of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza..._ **

It was dark… As usual. The curtains that enclosed the area prevented light from coming through from the outside, and the skylight overhead was no help either as it was now nearing midnight. Not that the time really mattered, as the glass was left so dusty and unclean that barely any light would filter though it on even the sunniest days. The place seemed barren- totally deserted, even. But there was one person who remained still in the darkness… Well, not really a _person_ , per se.

Sitting amid the dusty pirate-themed props was a large animatronic fox with a rose red coat. In the pitch black, however, all that could be seen of her were two glowing eyes that stared into the nothingness that surrounded her. After all, that was all that she could do anymore. It seemed fitting that this was the place she was banished to- the props around her hadn't been used in ages. They were junk. They were forgotten. And likewise, she hadn't been used in ages... She was junk. Forgotten.

The lone foxlike animatronic looked down at her damaged body. Her lower jaw was loose and dangling, her joints creaky and stiff. External problems aside, she also knew that she had many issues within her technologies, such as her voice box which had become increasingly glitchy and warped as of late. When she and the other animatronics were moved to this location, each was given an update that included new features and proportions that made them more humanlike. Unlike the others, however, she wasn't brought back onto the stage after this improvement. Her figure was curvier now at the bust and hips, emphasizing the fact that she was a female. Her damaged coat was also stitched up and cleaned, while the technologies within her were altered and renewed. The exact changes that had been instated were as strange as they were mysterious; she could cry now, she could speak without limitation, and she could actively control things like her tail and even her fur, to an extent. That didn't protect her from neglect-induced decay, though… Not that it really mattered. After all, no one had even seen her since she had been abandoned here.

_They must think I'm a monster..._

Her eyes grew wet as familiar thoughts began to form a black storm cloud in her mind. Nobody cared about her, and _nobody_ tried to help her... The only time that she had been out of the Cove in years was when the improvements were made to her, and while she was grateful for her new modifications as well as the restoration to her coat, she was confused as to why someone had gone through the trouble. She wasn't open to the public... In fact, she often wondered why she was even kept around at all, rather than just being scrapped off. Was she some sort of souvenir? An experiment? She didn't know… It hurt either way.

A single tear fell from her whiskers and hit the floor with a soft _dink_. She was alone and hurt, and desperately needed someone- _anyone_ who would help her out of the dark hole she was trapped in.

She needed a friend.

She had wished for one every night for years, though, imagining a day where some stranger would find her here and show her what that word really meant. However, it never happened, no matter how often or hard she dreamed of and longed after a companion. Maybe it didn't matter if someone _did_ find her, anyway- After all, who could possibly like _her_? She was a freak. An outcast. She was a monstrosity deemed unfit for anyone to see.

She was... _Nothing_.

Several more tears joined the first as the lone fox began to whimper silently in the darkness of her home.


	2. The Survivor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our night guard returns for his second night, and immediately starts off on the wrong foot.

I approached the large building slowly, despite the fact that it was completely dark outside as well as raining. As I reached the freshly cleaned glass doors I paused and checked the time on my phone- as it turned out, I still had about half an hour to kill before my shift would start. I came in early for a reason, though; I wanted to make sure that I knew where all of my escape routes were, just in case I ran out of power. Maybe it was a bit obsessive to go over everything again, since earlier that same day Mr. Fazbear had given me an in-depth tour of the building’s ventilation systems, but I figured that a little refresher couldn’t hurt.

Through the glass I could see a single light on in the large lobby, illuminating one of the cleaning staff that were still mopping the floor. With one last breath of the night's fresh air, I pushed the door open and walked inside. The mopping man flinched at the sound of my entry and whipped around to face me with wide eyes. I smiled and politely nodded at him before turning for one of the hallways that would lead me to the security office. He gave a weak smile in return, but I noticed that he immediately stopped what he was doing and started putting his cleaning supplies away. Seeing that the night guard was already here probably spooked him, given that my shift started right around the same time that… Well, you know.

Save for that one light in the lobby, which I figured the janitor had turned on for himself, the rest of the building’s interior was completely dark. Given that fact, my walk down the long hallway was more difficult than you might expect. The building was large, a size that was necessitated by Freddy Fazbear’s national popularity, and at night the many corridors seemed even more numerous than they had during the day. Finally, though, I was given relief from the relentless darkness via the sight of my destination, the soft glow of the security office’s light shining through the open doorway to greet me.

It wasn’t long after that I entered, and even though I had only been in the cramped room once before, it still caused a feeling of intense terror to well up inside of me. I sighed- maybe that sort of reaction should have been expected, given that I had almost died here not even a day ago. Everything seemed to be just how I left it the previous night- that was, until I noticed a small shopping bag that flickered in the fan’s breeze.

I cocked an eyebrow before walking over and opening the bag. Inside were a note and a flashlight, as well as a folded-up paper. First things first: I picked up the note and began to read.

_Dustin,_

_I know that I just gave you a tour of the place this morning, but in the heat of the moment it can be easy to forget small details. So, I got you a few things to help you navigate through the building at night. Hope they help._

_-  Mr. Fazbear_

That was nice of him. It was good to know that he was looking out for me- or maybe he just didn’t want to lose another night guard. Given his earlier elation that I would be sticking around, I had to bet that it was the latter. Whatever the case, I tucked the note into my pocket and pulled out the flashlight. It reminded me a lot of the ones that police officers use; dark and surprisingly heavy. I tested the weight in my hand a few times before turning it on and shining it around my office. The light that it provided wasn’t the brightest, but that was okay with me. After all, I didn’t want to give my position away to any of the animatronics should I need to leave the office. Next, I moved on to the folded paper. Straightening it out, I found that it was an interior map of the building that had been marked for my convenience, as the location of every accessible vent outlet was covered with a little red X. I silently thanked Mr. Fazbear for the gifts as I pocketed the map and readied the flashlight. Turning it on, I walked out into the halls to refresh my memory.

Unsurprisingly, the eerie atmosphere of the restaurant was even more unsettling after-hours. I took my time walking through a few of the nearby hallways, shining my flashlight on the walls and into each room that I passed. I also took note of any vents that I saw as I moved along. My walking was unnaturally loud given the complete silence that consumed the building, the walls echoing the soft clicks of my footsteps as I passed.

 _I think that’s good for tonight,_ I decided as I stopped near the end of a hall. I was about to head back to my office, but did one last sweep of my surroundings with my flashlight, just in case I missed something.

I paused when the beam of light shone into a nearby room and landed on something familiar. It was a wall covered in papers, each with a crude drawing of the Freddy’s animatronics and smiling children. I slowly walked toward the wall and realized that this must be one of the rooms where they display the kids’ drawings. That wasn’t out of the ordinary for a place like this, though, nor was it what had caught my attention.

The flashlight’s beam remained trained on one picture in particular; the paper was fading with age, but the colorful illustrations remained. It was a drawing of a little boy flashing a huge grin as he held hands with Freddy. On one side of the large bipedal bear was Foxy, while Chica and Bonnie stood on the opposite. All of the animatronics were smiling in the picture, with scribbly music notes and stars surrounding them. Written above the figures was a sloppy “I Love Freddy’s!” in an assortment of different colors. I couldn’t help but smile as I gently took a corner of the paper between two fingers and turned it over- written neatly on the back was “Dustin J., 1984”.

“I can’t believe that they kept this…” I whispered as I turned the paper back over. It was something that I had drawn when I was just a kid, before the ordeal with the missing children had forced the place to shut down. I stood back and studied the picture as old memories began flooding my thoughts… I found it ironically funny that these animatronics used to be my favorite things in the world, and yet here I was several years later, desperately trying to keep them from killing me.

My thoughts were shattered as I heard the familiar sound of a grandfather clock. I paused for a moment as reality slowly returned to me, then my eyes grew wide in fear. Those chimes meant that it was twelve o’clock now- meaning that the animatronics would be on the move! I cursed under my breath as I ran to the room’s door and peeked out into the hall.

 _How could I let time get away from me like that? I’m so stupid!_ I paused to listen for any signs of the Band while still mentally berating myself. _I should be in the security office right now, where it’s safe- not standing around looking at old drawings!_

Well, “safe” was a bit of a stretch, but it sure as hell beat wandering around in the halls with _them_.

After a few moments of nothing but silence, I steeled myself and shined my flashlight down the hall. _Thank_ _God_ nothing was there. I let out a relieved sigh as I exited the room, but couldn’t help but shoot one last glance at my picture before running down the hallway toward my office.

I never realized before then how hard it is to run quietly. I sprinted down corridors and through party rooms while simultaneously trying my damnedest to make as little noise as possible. In a situation like that, some might take the stealthy and silent approach in returning to the office, but I had my motives for getting there as quickly as possible; one being that I still wasn’t completely used to the building’s layout, and two, I was in the throes of a panic attack. All that I could think about was the thing that I saw last night, with those heartless glowing eyes and outstretched robotic arms- arms that could extend from the darkness around me at any given moment. Compared to that possibility, the office looked like a haven… Though even then, I knew that it wasn’t a perfect place to be. After all, it didn’t have a vent outlet that I could use as a last resort if need be- instead I had a desk fan. _A_ _fan_. Yeah, that was sure to be a _ton_ of help in my fight for survival, a truly irreplaceable ally.

Finally, I reached the home stretch. A spark of hope ignited in my chest as the light from the security office came into view, promising momentary safety. I chuckled while increasing my speed- I couldn’t believe my luck! I basically ran through half the restaurant, and didn’t even see a single animatronic along the way!

It was in that moment, as I drew close to the office doorway, that I realized I had spoken _way_ too soon. A large yellow head suddenly peeked out from around the corner, its purple eyes melting into black when they locked with my own. My grin dissolved at the sight, and as its beak fell open to let out a splitting mechanical shriek, I felt the color drain from my face. My sneakers squealed against the tile as I slid to a stop, and I managed to turn and bolt in the other direction _just_ quickly enough to avoid two grasping yellow hands.

My mind was a haphazard mess as my feet pounded against the floor. That scream sounded nearly identical to the one that I had heard the other night, making me wonder if it was the same animatronic as before- but no, I could have sworn that the other one looked… Purple? God, I didn’t know- and at that moment, I didn’t really care. I could hear heavy footsteps tailing me at a rushed pace, their whirring thuds close enough that any mistake on my part was likely to get me killed. My heart thumped against my ribs at the prospect, but that was the least of my worries at the moment.

I strained my panicking brain for directions on where to go in this situation, but it was impossible to think straight. Of course, I also had the map that Mr. Fazbear had given me, but now wasn’t exactly the best time to pull it out and strategize. Instead, I had to rely on instinct and muscle memory. My eyes shot to the left, toward an open doorway, and I silently prayed that it wouldn’t be a dead end. To my great relief, I turned into the room to find an exit on the other side. I rushed through the room, dodging party tables and chairs in the process- and that’s when I made a discovery. At my sudden turn, the set of footsteps behind me slowed before resuming, though now they were a bit further away.

 _My eyebrows furrowed._ _So, this thing isn’t so good at making turns, huh? Maybe I can use that to my advantage._

Despite my burning lungs and shaking legs, I continued to sprint down the pizzeria’s halls- except I made a slight change to my escape strategy. Now, instead of running and hoping for the best, I actively sought out doorways or turns. Each time I cut across a party room or conjoining hall, the thunderous footsteps behind me would fall back a bit further, and after repeating this process a few times, I had earned enough distance between me and my pursuer that I could try hiding in the hopes that it would pass me. My eyes flickered left and right to find a suitable room to duck into, and widened when a match was found. The animatronic had yet to clear the last corner I took, so I had but a few precious moments to duck into my sanctuary.

I cut into the room and immediately pivoted to stand beside the doorway, my back flat against the wall. My chest was heaving with needy breaths before shakily exhaling, though I did my best to muffle the sounds by clamping my hands over my mouth. I had just barely made it inside before I could hear hurried footsteps approaching from the hall, and anxiety tightly gripped my stomach. What if it somehow knew that I was in here? By the time that it came in, there would be no window for me to escape. I began shaking even more heavily as those pounding footsteps grew closer... and _closer_...

I screwed my eyes shut and tensed, hoping for all I was worth that it would pass me by without stopping. It was a helpless, terrifying moment, and yet I couldn’t help but think that I wasn’t getting paid enough for this job.

Despite my horrible luck that night, something must have been going for me- because the footsteps, retaining their fervor, passed by the door without so much as a pause. I nearly collapsed in relief as I let out an exhausted sigh. After taking a few minutes to catch my breath, I turned on my flashlight and shone it around me to find a standard party room… Though one _without_ an alternate exit.

 _That was too close,_ I thought as I decided that the coast was clear for me to move again. _Way too close._

It was obvious by the animatronic’s coloration that the one chasing me had been Chica. Now that she was gone, maybe I could _finally_ make it back to the security office and whatever relative safety it offered. With Chica off my trail, it seemed like something had shifted in my favor, and my luck was _finally_ turning around…

… And again, I realized that I spoke too soon. My jaw clenched against the sound of a hardy baritone laugh that echoed from somewhere in the building- somewhere far too close for my liking. I shook my head in dismay… Its owner hadn’t left the show stage the day prior, though now it was _definitely_ on the move.

The laugh was a reminder, sent just for me, that Freddy Fazbear was in the building.

* * *

 

It was mind-numbingly dark in the space around Foxy. There was no sound, no light, no energy at all; and yet the rest of the building just past her curtains- just beyond her grasp- was buzzing with happiness almost every single day. The fox had learned long ago that there was a separate world hidden behind Pirate Cove's curtains, one that few would ever have to see, and her life here was stagnant and lonely to the highest degree.  Honestly, was it even a life at this point? She didn't know anymore.

To her, life was seeing, hearing, and feeling a world that changed around you. It was about laughing with friends and crying onto their shoulders if you needed to- things that she had once indulged in, as she shared an emotional existence with what she had _thought_ to be her family… But here she was, now left alone to be clutched in the unmatched loneliness of the Cove, and felt... _nothing_ anymore. Nothing worth living for, at least.

It was true that she had cried many times since being exiled and hidden all those years ago, though she couldn't remember laughing even once since, and her far-between smiles were always the product of reminiscing about times long past. Still, she would gladly suffer all other troubles if only she had someone to spend her days with. Someone to talk to, to laugh with, to share emotion with again. They could bring her joy, share in her sorrow, and maybe even teach her what the true meaning of the word “friend” was. She thought she had known what it meant, once… Though friends don’t abandon each other when they’re needed the most. Even _she_ knew that much.

But maybe not everyone was like that. Maybe someone would come for her soon, someone who would never leave her alone again. They could spend all day talking, and laughing, and playing, and..!

She sighed and did away with the thought. _No one will even care that I’m here, let alone like_ _me. Nobody else did…_

Her glowing yellow eyes pierced the darkness and wandered her familiar surroundings. Somewhere out in front of her she could see a line of dull bluish light from where the curtains were thinly separated. She could remember what it was like before she was closed in, back when her act in Pirate Cove was popular. Each morning those faded purple curtains would open to reveal countless children, all smiling in anticipation. She would always flash a toothy grin back before she would start to sing:

' _Do, de-dum do dum dum de! Yes sir, 'tis a pirate's life for me!’_

A faint smile formed on her face at the memory. She missed seeing their beaming faces, as well as all of the shanties and adventures that they would share. She wanted that back… She wanted to sing again.

Her body began to tremble as she opened her damaged mouth a bit and tested her vocalizations. It took her a few tries, but she eventually managed to regain control of her seldom used voice. Then she started to sing, her volume soft and tempo slow:

"Do... de-dum d-do dum dum de..."

The corners of her mouth lifted as the familiar sound reached her ears- it was just like back in the old days! She could hear _her_ voice again- not the preset sound of a cliché pirate’s speech or a technological shriek, but _her_ _actual_ voice! She was amazed that, even after all these years of disuse, she could still sing just like how she did before. Her confidence grew, and for a moment her broken spirits lifted- until...

"Yes sir, 'tis a pirate's life for meee- **R** -ee- **REEEEEEEEEEE!** "

Her eyes shot wide and she quickly clapped her good hand over her mouth, cutting the horrible noise short. Still, the shrill sound echoed off the walls of the empty building for several moments to come, each reverberation reminding Foxy of what she really was. Her smile instantly faded into a somber grimace. Her circuits and voice box were so worn and damaged that she couldn't even sing her old shanties anymore... And even though she had never been particularly fond of her role as a pirate, songs like that one were the only tie she had to her past anymore.

Burning tears begin to well in her eyes as her momentary break from the sorrow ended. She sobbed quietly for a while before a familiar dark thought crossed her mind:

_Should I just end it all?_

After all, what was the point of living like this for any longer than she already had? She had no purpose, and even if she died, nobody was likely to notice- let alone care. She cast her eyes down to the hook attached to her arm. It was sharp, heavy, and looked like it could get the job done... Just one quick thrust into her core and all of this suffering would end. Her mind made up, she whimpered as she lifted her hook and turned it so that its wicked end was poking at her chest. The metal was cold against her fur, and she flinched against the contact. Regardless, she swallowed and began to drive the point toward its target- her core. Her arm shook violently as mechanical strength was applied to the action.

Both her heart and mind were racing, and all she could think between broken sobs was _could this really be the end?_

She jerked to a sudden stop right as the hook’s tip had begun to carve into her outer pelt. She looked down at it for a long moment, then pulled it out of her skin.

. _.. No_.

Foxy sighed and lowered the hook, using her other hand- which was still shaking terribly- to wipe her tears. It was pathetic, but she _still_ couldn't take her own life...

The thought was cut off by a crash coming from beyond the curtains.

_Huh? What was that?_

Her ears perked toward the sound, and soon after, a terrible shriek sounded from somewhere in the restaurant. Her body tensed- she knew that sound all too well. It was the cry made when one of the other animatronics was attacking a night guard, which she could only guess was happening right then. Given that she hadn't heard any children or staff in the building for several hours, Foxy assumed that it was probably well after midnight now- meaning that the animatronics were free to roam the building, making her hunch all the more likely.

Her ears drooped and she bowed her head in the silence that followed the scream. So much death and sorrow filled this building, yet anyone who visited seemed completely oblivious to it. Right now, for example, some living, breathing person was probably being shoved into a mechanical suit, their life being crushed out of them... But nothing would change. It never did.

She kept her head lowered for several minutes after the scream had ended. Even if she didn't know who this person was, being killed in such a matter was a terrible fate, one that nobody should have to face. She knew that fact in her heart, even though she had long since become numb to the act. After all, hearing the same thing happen over and over again was desensitizing after a while.

Her ears perked and head shot up again as she heard something in the distance. It sounded like a repetition of soft clicks, though it was quickly gaining in volume. As the clicking grew louder she realized that it sounded like... Footsteps? She looked through the small part in the curtains as it grew closer. Yeah, those were definitely footsteps- but whose? Just then, a shadow flew by her curtains as a blur, causing them to blow open a bit before settling back into place. She stared forward in surprise and confusion- the only person who would be here this late was the night guard, but they were already caught... Right?

It was then that a second set of footsteps came from the same direction as the first, mirroring the rapid pace of the prior. The difference was that these sounded much heavier, and gave off a soft whirring sound as they approached. Foxy watched as, just like before, a shadow charged by the Cove so quickly that the curtains parted. This shadow, however, was notably larger than the first, and thanks to her ability to see in the dark, Foxy was able to note its bright yellow coloration. After the second figure had passed, the curtains once again settled- though this time they remained parted a bit further than they had been before.

Foxy continued to stare out into the hallway through the enlarged gap and replayed the previous moment in her head. Given the color, there was no doubt that the second shadow had been Chica… But what about the first? It couldn't have been the night guard, could it? No… No one had ever escaped once the animatronics got to them. Unless...

 _What if the guard wasn't in the office when they were spotted?_ Her eyes widened in realization _. That might have given them just enough time to get away!_

She smiled to herself and silently hoped that this guard would be the first to escape the other animatronics. It wouldn’t be easy, though, and they would have to be extremely lucky to survive the night like this...

Especially if Freddy found out that they had left the office.


	3. The Realization

I charged through the halls as quickly as I could, my rapidly flickering eyes desperate to find an escape. Yet again I had found myself in a life-threatening position, and the increasing frequency of my encounters with the animatronics led me to believe that they were even _more_ tenacious now than they had been the night prior. That observation was overshadowed by my intense fear, though, which filled my mind with a long string of curses- aimed at my pursuers, sure, but also at myself for taking- then returning to- this insane job in the first place.

Over the scraping thuds that echoed through the halls behind me, I could hear my own ragged breathing- labored an occasionally broken up by dry coughs- as well as the rapid rhythm of my own heartbeat in my ears. My legs burned as intensely as my lungs did, and my stride had long-since begun to wobble with fatigue. In that moment, I would have killed for some water, a chair, and even that blasted fan in my office… However, as much as I wanted to stop and rest, a second set of footsteps and an accompanying screech reminded me that I was in no position to take a break.

I grimaced against the pain and redoubled my efforts at getting away, the fear of getting caught and killed in horrendous ways leveling off against my exhaustion. I didn't know for sure how many of those monsters were behind me, though it hardly mattered. With their robotic strength and murderous vigor, all it would take to rip me to shreds was one.

I swallowed hard and shoved the thought aside. _Alright, think of a way out! You can't keep running forever, so what can you use to get away?_

It was then that I skidded around a turn and saw the answer ahead of me- an open doorway to one of the private party rooms, and if memory served, it was one that was equipped with a vent grate. If I was wrong, then turning into that room was sure to mean death… Though if I was right, then I was home-free. There was a brief moment of contention as I sprinted toward the room, wondering if it was worth the gamble. In the end, though, I decided that it was the best option I had. I turned into the doorway on a dime and nearly cheered at the sight of a rectangular metal grid hanging low on the opposite wall.

Not wasting a moment, I slid across the semi-clean floor on my knees and immediately started to remove the grate that covered my escape route. The barrier served as a safety feature to prevent kids from climbing into the vents and getting hurt, though as far as I was concerned, at that moment it was doing anything _but_ helping to keep anyone safe _._

_Come on..!_

I frantically clawed at the edges with little restraint, my actions growing more feverish as the sounds of heavy footsteps rushed into the room. Mr. Fazbear had mentioned that he purposefully made the grates easy to remove for someone with adequate strength, though in my rush I couldn't help but wonder what his unrealistic perception of 'adequate' was.

Finally, though, there was some give as the plate popped off the wall. By this point, however, the animatronics' footsteps were mere feet behind me, and gaining fast. I tossed the grate aside, and it gave a metallic rattle against the linoleum as I dove into the cavity.

It was only once I had begun to pull my entire body into the cramped passage that I let a hopeful smile tug at the corners of my mouth- despite the odds, I had made it to safety! Mr. Fazbear had ensured me that the animatronics couldn't fit into such a space, and now that I was inside, I could see why- even for _my_ lean frame, it was tight around me. I've never been very claustrophobic, but even then, under normal circumstances the vents would have definitely made me feel trapped. Now, however, they made me feel secure, and I was quick to start putting space between my feet and the entrance- or so I _would_ have, had something not suddenly latched onto my right ankle.

At a sudden tug from behind me, I fell hard against the aluminum with a wince before shooting a look back and feeling my face go pale. Wrapped around my ankle were the purple digits of a robotic hand, which tightened its powerful grasp before starting to pull on my leg. My heart lurched as I scrambled to escape, grasping about blindly at the smooth surfaces around me in vain as I was steadily dragged back toward my hunters.

"No!" I cried between rapid breaths, "No, no, nonono!"

I flailed about wildly in resistance, though stopped when a sharp pain set my right hand ablaze. Looking over, I could see a gap between the vent panels where the cheap metal had somehow been bent. One edge of the panel was now wet with the blood from my palm, which had slammed into it in my struggle. Regardless of the pain I felt, I lifted my left hand to aid the first and clenched at the edge for dear life.

The animatronic kept pulling back, but no longer made any progress. The result was a dangerously low hiss as it gave an abrupt yank to try dislodging me. The extra force made me redouble my own efforts as well, and I grit my teeth against the searing cuts that I could now feel in both palms.

"No!" I shouted in agony, "Let go of me! _Please_!"

I wasn't trying to reason with a machine- those were just the words that had come out. My hands were on fire, and my ankle was straining against the robotic strength that compressed it. In the face of the pain and fear that I felt then, I was reduced to begging for it to end. Desperate for relief, I aimed a powerful kick at the purple knuckles, and cursed when my toes stubbed against the metal chassis. Obviously fighting an animatronic with flesh wouldn't get me anywhere, either… And as I found myself fresh out of ideas, I instead shifted my focus to the blessed part in the vents that was keeping me alive.

All I could hear, aside from my own heavy breathing, was a set of rattling hisses and fragmented screeches. The sweat I shed burned at the fresh slashes in my hands, and my captor was steadily pulling back with more and more force. It wasn't a good situation… Not at all. I had to come up with something _fast_ if I wanted to survive until morning and keep my leg in the process.

_Come on, think! There has to be something you can do… Anything!_

It was then that I looked down and saw the flashlight that hung from a loop on my jeans. I stared at it for a moment before my eyes widened in recognition- fighting this thing myself might have been out of the question, though the flashlight was metal too. _Heavy_ metal. I didn't know for sure if it was sturdy enough to get me anywhere, but it was at least worth a shot.

I took a deep breath before releasing my left hand's hold on the crevice. My right strained in response, as I had been pulled back a bit as a result, though I grimaced through the pain and tightened my grip before reaching down. After a bit of a struggle, I pulled the flashlight free from my pants and flipped it in my hand so that the back of it faced the animatronic.

_Well, here goes nothing._

I drew back as far as I could before swinging my makeshift club toward the fingers. Given how dark and compact the vents were, I worried that I would miss my mark and hit my own leg- luckily, though, my aim was true, and the end of my improvised baton crunched against metal with a satisfying _bang_.

The response was immediate- a strange glitchy yelp sounded from behind me right as the grip around my ankle loosened. The pressure was still intense, though I thought it weak enough for me to pull free. I holstered the flashlight before again grabbing the crack with both hands and pulling forward with all my strength. I grunted and growled through my panting as I lifted my free leg to push me forward as well- and through the immense effort, I began to feel my foot slip through the animatronic's hold.

It felt as though my leg was tearing at the ankle, though I hardly cared. I was finally making progress, and now freedom was within my reach- I just had to pull a bit harder… A bit harder… _A bit harder_..!

_Crack!_

I lurched forward and slammed against the vent's floor before the moment had even caught up to me. When fire erupted from my foot, however, I realized that the animatronic must have clamped down in a last-ditch effort to maintain its grasp… An action that had caused something on my end to give. I hissed in pain, though the blindly grasping hands at the vent's entrance convinced me to scoot a few feet away before checking on the damage.

Once I was comfortable with my distance from the cacophony of robotic screeching that echoed after me, I pulled my right leg close to my chest and ran my hands down it. An involuntary cry of pain filled the space as my fingers brushed against the area- it was already swelling, far more so than I would expect from a sprain.

"Dammit…" I shot a glare at the end of the vent, though my anger melted at the sight of the four white pinpricks that now filled the gap. With a low hiss of resignation, the eyes vanished from my sight, leaving an eerie silence in their wake.

I stared at the empty opening for a long moment, but didn't dare leave the way I had come in. For all I knew, they could be just out of my field of vision, waiting for me to emerge. The safe bet seemed to be for me to stay in the vents- after all, they couldn't reach me, and not much more needed to be said in that regard- however, I couldn't lift myself beyond my hands and knees, which was a position made all the more uncomfortable by the bleeding cuts in my palms, as well as the dull burning in my ankle. I wanted to get back to the office somehow, where there was light to better assess my wounds as well as the safety to do so.

With that as my motivation, I shifted my gaze to the stretch of vents in front of me, and sighed when I saw the steep incline of my path.

_This is gonna suck._

And suck, it most certainly did. However, several painful minutes of dragging myself along later, I was met with another straightaway where the vents were level. There were also grates ahead, evenly installed in the floor, that gave relief from the unrelenting darkness in the form of faint bluish light.

I hummed. "I must be in the ceiling, then..."

I winced as I shifted my weight for the crawl ahead, pausing at the first grate to pull the map from my pocket. I wanted to know where exactly in the building I was, mostly in the interest of trudging back toward the office. However, even with the subtle- emphasis on _subtle_ \- light coming from the room below, it was far too dark to make sense of the paper. I once again drew my trusty flashlight and struggled for a moment to get it to shine more than a dim flicker.

Finally, though, its beam returned, and in the reflection of the aluminum around me, I could see a large dent in the end of the light from where I had struck the animatronic. I shivered at remembering how close I had come to dying just then… It seemed that the cheapness of this place beneath the surface had actually saved my life- after all, had that break in the vents not been there, I likely would have been ripped apart and crushed within a suit by now.

I shook the thought and instead focused on gathering my bearings… Though, no matter how I looked at the map, I was having a hard time making heads or tails of my current location. I decided that using the room below me as a reference point might help, though what waited for me there nearly made me jump out of my skin. I fumbled with the flashlight before securing it and taking a few deep breaths to calm myself. Then, with a twinge of disbelief, I lowered the light through the grate once more.

The room itself was perfectly normal- it was what inhabited it that came as a surprise. Standing directly below the vent were two dark figures; the first was a purple animatronic with large bunny ears and a red bowtie, while the next was a slightly smaller yellow one with a white bib hanging around its neck, an unsettling "LET'S EAT!" emblazoned on it in bold lettering. Both had their black eyes trained on me, their small white pupils unwavering and unresponsive even as my light was trained on them. The purple one, Bonnie, was completely still as it stared up, its eyes almost rolling into its skull to meet my own. Meanwhile, Chica had its entire head lulled back limply, as though its neck had been broken, so that it could stare straight up through the vent. More unsettling than its posture, though, was the large orange beak that hung open to reveal a set of sharp metal teeth. It took me a while to completely recover from their sudden presence in the room, though after a long moment in which neither of them moved, I relaxed enough to properly observe them.

Chica looked a lot more aesthetically pleasing than she did when he was a kid, with a lemon yellow exterior that was covered almost entirely in lifelike feathers. I could vaguely remember her irises being a bright purple, though now they were reduced to being inky black, save for the glowing pupils at the center of each. It was also interesting to note that she had been given curves; a detail that I remembered her Toy remake having, though the Chica from my memory had always been blocky and flat. Now, however, there was the obvious contour of modestly-sized breasts, and her hips protruded to mimic a slender hourglass figure- a detail that I found strange, given that "she" was an animatronic, but it wasn't my business to tell Fazbear Entertainment how to model their characters. The only breaks my eyes were given from the poppy yellow of her exterior were the orange of the legs and previously mentioned beak, the former of which were ended in cartoonishly large chicken feet. The last area of interest was her "hair", which was actually just a stylization of her head feathers. They were spiked upward and to one side in a punky manner, which didn't look bad at all considering how atrocious her original "hairdo" was.

Next was Bonnie, whose appearance baffled me at first. I always thought that Bonnie was a male character, what with its previously bulky exterior and the bowtie placed at the base of its neck. Here, however, this updated version seemed to be designed to look more female; like Chica, it had a bust and waist that simply weren't there in the past restaurants. It had been slimmed down in some areas, while… _thickened_ in others. Also like Chica, it had no clothing beyond the signature bowtie it wore, and was instead covered by a coat of purple fur.

I hummed with thought before turning my attention back to the map. A few moments of studying the paper later, I sighed in defeat. I still had no idea as to where I was, nor where I should go. My eyes shifted toward the next vent grate down the passage, and I decided that it was worth checking into as well. Maybe the next room would have some characteristic that would better hint at my location.

My mind made up, I pocketed the map again and began crawling forward. "Later, creepy robots…"

Before long I reached the next panel and immediately lowered my light into the room below. At seeing the two familiar faces that were waiting for me there, though, I cursed and jumped in surprise so violently that the back of my head rattled the vents. I gingerly rubbed at my hair while staring down at the two with increasing unease- had the room not been a different color, I wouldn't have been able to tell that I had moved at all; they stood in the same motionless poses, wearing the same disturbing glares that they had shown previously.

_Wait… Are they following me?_

I slowly looked away from the room to the next vent grate ahead of me. With a hard swallow, I crawled forward to look through it, though the two were somehow in that room as well, still staring at me in the same statue-like positions.

By this point I was getting steadily more paranoid. It wasn't a mystery that they were following the vents, waiting for me to come out either of my own volition or via a structural failure. As the metal creaked and groaned beneath me with every movement, the latter seemed horrifyingly plausible. The thought of being dumped right into their waiting arms terrified me, and stoked the fearful part of my brain that was begging me to get away from them.

I crawled past more and more vent grates, hoping with each one that I would have lost my pursuers somehow- though instead, I was unfailingly met with those familiar white pinpricks. After a while I didn't even bother to shine my flashlight at them anymore… I already knew exactly how they would look.

Their ability to make it to each room before _I_ could was deeply unnerving, and didn't bode well for my chances of escape. My crawling grew more and more frenzied as I desperately searched for a grate that they wouldn't be waiting beneath, the stinging in my palms or dull throbbing in my ankle all but forgotten.

With this increase of speed, I was able to somehow put them behind me- or, at least, I could no longer see those glowing white dots in the rooms below. I didn't slow down, though… I knew that it must be a trick. Maybe they were waiting in the halls for me to drop down, then they would block the room's exits and make quick work of me. I didn't know for certain, though I was far too paranoid to trust that I was in the clear. I wanted to make damn sure that I was as far away from those things and as close to the office as possible before I even thought about leaving my safe zone.

I only paused when I noticed something different about the vents in front of me; they were crooked and unclean, darkened in patches by rust or mold. The reasonable part of me wanted to turn back that very instant, to backtrack and find some other way around the building… However, that was when I heard shuffling footsteps on the ground behind me, and before I knew it, I was navigating through the grimy tunnel ahead. I would be fine so long as I was careful- or so I told myself at the thought of dealing with those monsters again.

I proceeded much more slowly than I had previously, careful to avoid infecting my hands with anything too undesirable, though my movements were still stoked by the fear of what was chasing me. It was only when the metal shuddered beneath me that I paused and gave my choice a second thought. It was a precarious option, to keep going through this dilapidated part of the building, though all it took was a flashback to the incredible strength that had crushed my ankle for me to make up my mind.

 _There's no way I'm going back toward those things…_ I thought while making a cautious movement forward, _And I haven't heard them at all since coming in here, so maybe I'm over a part of the building that they can't get into._

As I still had no idea where I was, that last part was nothing but hopeful speculation on my part. All I knew for sure was that I hadn't had to deal with any sign of them since entering this section, and I wanted to keep it that way. My mind made up, I started forward once more in search of the next grate. As far as I was concerned, compared to being tailed by murderous robots, I would gladly risk falling through the ceiling.

I had thought that, sure, though I didn't expect it to actually happen. Fate must have called my bluff, though, because it was at that exact moment that the metal beneath me buckled and tore free from the ceiling. From there I was helpless but to cry out in surprise as I was dumped into the darkness below…

* * *

Two large shadows rushed along to the sounds coming from the vents, dead set on capturing their fleeing prey. Each time the human would cross over a room, they would stop just below the grate and wait for him to crawl overhead, waiting for the flimsy metal to fail and drop him as though he were a prize from a claw machine.

Despite the odds, though, the vents had held up surprisingly well, and now the night guard was moving beyond the stretches of the hallway that they had been following. The two paused at realizing where he was headed- it was the most unkempt and forbidden area in the whole building.

Pirate Cove.

It wasn't much from the outside- just a purple curtain decorated with white stars, as well as an array of warning signs that read "No Entry", "Out of Order", and "Danger", among other things. At one time, the contents of that room were a huge part of the Freddy Fazbear's show… Though now they were left completely abandoned.

After brief hesitation, the two shadows began to rush forward once more. It was only when a large hand found rest on either of their shoulders that they stopped and turned, finding that their third comrade had caught up to them. Freddy's glowing white eyes shifted between the two before he shook his broad head, then turned to disappear into the darkness of the halls. The duo exchanged glances and eyed the curtains intently, though reluctantly complied and followed the bear after a moment.

* * *

Foxy was still sitting amid her props, looking out into the hallway. It had been quite some time since her curtains had last been open wide enough for her to look out of- not that there was much to see, just the same checkerboard tiled floor, and walls covered in Freddy Fazbear posters and other such memorabilia.

What _was_ interesting, however, was the security camera mounted on the ceiling just outside of her curtains. The camera was currently drooped down, leading her to believe that it was out of use at the moment, but it was still easy to see that it was meant to observe Pirate Cove.

 _But why?_ She thought as she studied the device, _I haven't been outside in years…_

She thought about it for a long moment before a realization hit her- they wouldn't have put a camera there unless they thought she was a threat… In other words, their opinion of her hadn't changed since they removed her from the public eye.

A sniff echoed off the walls around her as tears blurred her vision. How many night guards had carefully watched the Cove through the cameras, fearing that some bloodthirsty killer would emerge and come for them? How much anxiety had she caused just by existing here?

She whimpered as her eyes lowered to the dusty ground. Maybe it was best if the curtains stayed closed, after all… That way, no one would have to look at her ugly, damaged body anymore, or be frightened by the image that Fazbear Entertainment had given her.

She contested with these familiar thoughts for a moment, though was shaken from them by the sounds of metallic banging. Curious, she traced the sound to the ceiling and watched in surprise as the tiles above her trembled with each repetitive impact. It was only after the sounds had made it a few feet into the Cove that she realized what was happening- something must have been in the vents.

She wiped the wetness from her eyes and stood from the crate she had been sitting on, her ears still perked toward the noise as she backed away from it. Just then the ceiling tiles lurched, and everything fell still for a long moment. Foxy stared up intently, until finally, a loud _creak_ came from overhead, followed by a large section of vents collapsing through the ceiling. The sudden mayhem that ensued made her flinch in surprise, though what really interested her was what fell down alongside all the metal and tile.

There was a loud cry, cut off quickly by a heavy thud. Foxy winced against the figure's impact with the ground, then looked over at what had fallen with eyes that shone to let her see in the dark. Laying on the floor next to all the debris was a person, lying motionless on their side. They were so still, in fact, that Foxy momentarily feared the worst- though a closer look revealed the slow rise and fall of their chest, proof that they had survived the fall. Her curiosity piqued, she crossed to the human and carefully looked them over.

It was a Caucasian human male who looked to be in his mid-twenties- the age that many new parents were when they brought their firstborn to the restaurant. He had a lean build, made to look larger at a first look by the baggy clothing he wore. In his current position it was hard to see much more of him, so Foxy crouched down and gently rolled him onto his back for a better look.

Once there she could better make out the details of his appearance; he had medium-length dark brown hair that fell halfway down his neck, with some layered streaks of blonde mixed in. She wasn't sure if it was disheveled from his fall or meant to look a bit messy- either way, there were no signs that he cared much for keeping it particularly neat. His face was fair with no distinguishing marks save for the few fresh cuts and scrapes that peppered it, and his clothing was about as casual as outfits came, comprised of sneakers and blue jeans, along with a plain navy-blue tee and a black hoodie. The clothes were so unprofessional, in fact, that she wasn't even sure he was the night guard at first… However, nobody else stayed at Freddy's overnight, and the chances of someone being missed during the building's mandatory closing sweeps were slim at best.

After a moment of thought, she decided that they must have stopped giving the guards uniforms, given how many they undoubtedly went through. That mystery solved, she let her eyes wander up and down his body, noting the tears in his jeans and the dark lines in his palms. He was obviously in bad shape, and she wanted to help- though first, she would have to know what all she was dealing with. 

Her face grew warm as she crouched down beside him, placing the back of her hand against his cheek. She paused as he flinched and murmured incoherently at the contact, though his response didn't seem negative, so she smiled and ran her touch down his neck. It was only once she had reached his abdomen that she gasped, as there was a wet gash in his shirt that had been stained black by blood. She carefully peeled the bottom of the fabric up until she was met by a moderate incision- one that looked nasty, but luckily didn't seem to have carved into his organs.

 _It must be from when he fell,_ she thought with a grimace, shooting a look at the sharp fragments of metal beside him. Lowering the shirt once more, she decided that she would have to stitch that up if he wanted any chance of walking out of here on his own.

From there she moved even further down, running her fingers along his legs. Luckily there was nothing there, save for a mild scrape on his knee from where the pants had torn. Finally, she reached his ankle and frowned when she felt the warm swelling of a recent injury. Slipping his shoe and sock off, she could see that it was either a very bad sprain or a potential fracture, the fingerlike indentations in his skin a clue as to what had left him in this condition.

It was easy to see that he had been through a lot that night, and she wanted to do whatever she could to help him before he went on his way. With a nod to herself, Foxy stood up and began going through the props for anything that could assist her in this situation- sparse pickings, for sure, though before long she had scrounged up some duct tape and paper from a few boxes, as well as a thin string and pin. It wasn't much, and certainly wasn't up to medical standards, but it was all she had to make work.

First, she rubbed the paper in her hand until it was soft like a compression wrap. She taped the fabric over his cuts, hoping that he would disinfect them later, then got to work creating a makeshift splint out of tape and wood from the boxes. Finally, all that was left was the gash on his stomach.

_The worst for last…_

Using her hook, she was able to bend a loop in the end of the pin, then tied the string through it. A deep breath later, she began stitching the gash, wincing with each sign of discomfort that the guard showed. Luckily, though, he didn't wake up- in part due to how she made sure to take her time and be as careful as possible, her good hand feeding the pin through his skin in fluid motions while her hook supported the other side of the laceration.

You'd think it strange for an animatronic at a kid's restaurant to know the first thing about medical procedures, though things like this came as second nature to Foxy. Even _she_ didn't know why, exactly… Only that there were things she had always inherently known, ever since she had woken up. She pondered why that was for the millionth time while she worked, until she was finally satisfied with her progress.

Job done, she sat down beside him and watched the slow heaving of his chest while he slept. She didn't feel as hopeless with him around, though wasn't entirely sure why- maybe it was the company, or it could have been that she was finally given the opportunity to be productive with her time. Whatever the case, she eyed the battered guard thoughtfully, wondering what he would think about all of this once he had woken up.

…

Dustin's eyes shot open, only to screw shut again with discomfort as he sat up. He felt terrible- sore wherever there wasn't blatant pain. At first he had no idea why that was, though after groggily looking around at the dark room he was in, his eyes went wide with recollection. His first instinct was to shoot to his feet- an action that made him hiss with pain as he hunched over. His ankle was throbbing, and there was a dull tugging sensation in his stomach. Shooting a cautious look around him, he reached for his flashlight, only to pause as he felt some sort of cloth between his palm and the cold metal.

Getting steadily more confused, he opted to turn on the light and immediately shine it on his other hand. Wrapped across his palm was what looked to be worn paper, stained red in the middle, with small tags of duct tape connecting its edges to his skin.

_Oh, right… My hands got sliced open when I was trying to get away from Bonnie._

He only assumed that the same sort of primitive bandage was on his other hand, so he skipped looking at it and instead turned the light downward. His eyebrow cocked- two short planks of wood were taped tightly to his lower leg, acting as a splint that kept his ankle in place. Mouthing a silent "what?" to himself, he reached past the wet gash in his lower shirt and lifted the hem, only to find that some sort of string was stitched across a slash that _he_ didn't even remember acquiring.

 _Alright, so I know why my ankle is messed up… But where did this gash come from?_ He turned just enough that a mess of metal reflected the beam of his light, and after a moment, he recalled venturing into a portion of vents that were even more suspect than the previous. _So… I fell through? That would explain how I got knocked out, but who else was in here with me?_

While he tried to figure the situation out, Foxy was watching him inspect her work from behind a large crate. As soon as he had started to stir, she decided to hide from sight as to not alarm him- after all, even if she didn't mean him any harm, how was _he_ supposed to know that? He had spent the rest of the night running for his life from other animatronics, so she didn't expect him to take to her presence calmly. Not that she minded observing him from a hiding place, as it was interesting to see him piece together what had happened while he had been unconscious.

Now that he was standing, she could see that he stood just shy of her height, meaning that he was an inch or so short of six feet. It was almost amusing to see his confusion as he looked himself over, though she found it much less entertaining when the expression on his face melted from curiosity to fear. He suddenly turned his flashlight on the rest of the room and began to sweep the area with it, barely giving Foxy enough time to duck behind the boxes without getting caught in the beam. He was obviously looking for whoever did this to him, and Foxy didn't know whether she should walk out to introduce herself or hide until he had left on his own.

While she disputed the best course of action in the odd situation, Dustin was looking around for any sign of who was there while he slept. Someone had obviously patched him up while he was out, which would have been touching had the only other inhabitants of the restaurant not been murderous animatronics. He knew it couldn't have been the ones he saw earlier- after all, they had done nothing but try to kill him all night. The next thought he had was that maybe someone had snuck in and taken refuge in this room until morning, but the building was always securely locked up by the time his shift rolled around. Not to mention, the animatronics surely would have caught such a person between the front door and here…

Wait a minute… Where _is_ "here"?

He did a full turn with his flashlight, and soon recognized the area. It was a surprisingly large room, filled with dusty props and stacks of boxes that were nearly invisible in the dark. The only light source at all was a dim purple that came from a skylight overhead, though the window was so dirty that hardly any moonlight shone through. The real giveaway, though, was the iconic bow of a pirate's ship that lined the back wall. It conjured images of a red fox with an eyepatch, who called her home the-

"Pirate Cove…" He murmured, his unease temporarily diverted into nostalgic awe. "Or, at least it _used_ to be."

If memory served him right, Pirate Cove had closed a long time ago… And judging by the state of the vents overhead, along with the fact that this place needed a thorough cleaning, it wasn't hard to figure out that it had been reduced to storage space for an act long-forgotten.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a soft shuffling in the darkness, and immediately trained his light on a nearby pile of crates and old props. Something was _definitely_ in the room with him.

"… H-Hello?" He asked slowly as he took a few steps forward, "Who's there?"

Foxy began to panic as he walked closer- she was running out of time to make her decision. She had to act, or risk being discovered on different terms.

 _Well, this might be my only chance to talk to someone from outside the Cove…_ She thought as the beam from his flashlight drew nearer, So _I at least have to try!_

Taking a breath, she stepped out from behind the crate and looked at Dustin, whose eyes widened as quickly as the color drained from his face. He froze as fright overcame him, and she scrambled to show that she wasn't a threat. Stepping forward and waving at him- using her hook hand unconsciously- she opened her mouth to issue a friendly greeting. Despite her intentions, however, words failed her- or, to be more accurate, her voice box did. Instead of giving a warm introduction, a splitting shriek tore from her throat and reverberated off the walls around them.

Dustin cried out in surprise, recognizing that sound as the same that the others used while attacking, and immediately turned to run. The scream hadn't even come to an end before he was sprinting through the purple curtains, ignoring the stiff pain in his ankle as he turned into the halls. Foxy stepped forward and tried to tell him not to go, but all that came out was another distorted cry. It was only once the curtains had settled back into place behind him that she lowered her head in dismay. There was her chance… And there it went.

She walked over to the curtains to look down the hall after him, but he was already long gone by that point. With a sigh, she sat down on a crate and thought about what she had done for several moments, though some movement in the hallway caught her attention. The camera placed outside the Cove lifted into its proper position, sporting a small red light to show that it was actively watching her. She immediately stood and backed away from the curtains with a blush, and when the camera lowered once more, she felt the corners of her mouth raise into a small smile.

Maybe she had scared him away, but at least he had made it to the office in one piece. She only hoped that her care would help him to feel better quickly.

…

Dustin was running as quickly as he could through the halls toward the security office. Miraculously, he was able to find and enter the room without so much as seeing another animatronic, and immediately threw both doors down before collapsing into the leather chair.

 _What was that thing!?_ He thought as he caught his breath. It had happened so fast that the details were a blur… He just remembered something standing up from behind a crate, with two wide, glowing eyes and a wicked hook that waved after him menacingly. The part that really set him off was the sound it made, though… It sounded just like the others did, meaning that it must have been another animatronic. Piecing everything together, he sat up straight in his seat.

"Was that… Foxy?" He asked the empty room, "But I thought she was scrapped…"

He thought back for a moment, but there was no mistaking it; the hook hand, the red coloration, the fact that she was in Pirate Cove of all places… That was definitely Foxy the Pirate Fox.

He shook his head before grabbing the tablet off the table and cycling through the feeds. To his surprise, Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica were all standing motionless on the show stage, even though it wasn't quite six yet. Doing a few rough estimations, he guessed that he had been unconscious in Pirate Cove for at least an hour, which would have given her plenty of time to finish him off…

He slumped back with an exasperated sigh. "So why didn't it kill me, then?"

After all, weren't all of the animatronics out for his blood? That was the impression that he got from them… And yet, at seeing the bandages on his hands, he couldn't ignore the facts; the only thing in that room with him had been Foxy, and since she had not only refrained from killing him, but had also been around at the same time that he was miraculously fixed up, the evidence implied that he had been taken care of by _her_ … An animatronic.

"No way…" He muttered while rubbing his eyes. Wasn't she supposed to have been shut down? And why would she try to heal him, only to attack him like that later?

"Unless…" His eyebrows furrowed with thought, "It _wasn't_ trying to attack me."

That's when it really hit him that an animatronic had been helpful- a realization that maybe shouldn't have been that groundbreaking. After all, if the animatronics attacked because of some glitch that made them violent, then couldn't it be possible that there was a glitch that did the opposite? Not that he knew the first thing about that sort of stuff, but it made at least a little sense.

Focusing on the cameras again, he cycled through the feeds until he found the one he was looking for- the one that showed Pirate Cove. Through it he could see that the curtains were slightly parted from earlier, but there was no sign of the animatronic fox that he knew to be living inside.

The guard scratched his head in thought… Maybe not everything around here was what it seemed.


	4. The Fox

I stayed in my office with both doors closed until well after the end of my shift. Since I hadn't been using power through most of the night, I still had plenty to spare by the time that the morning bells rang out. It was only then that I opened my doors, though I didn't leave the room. Instead, I sat and listened on as distant music became gradually more overpowered by the voices of Freddy's visitors. Usually I would have been eager to leave, but there was just too much to think about.

I had spent the previous night running in fear from animatronics who were out for my blood, only to have another save my life… Or at least save me from copious blood loss. That fact brought with it a myriad of other questions; why did it help me, and did its help mean that not every animatronic was a bloodthirsty killer? Speaking of the others, why did they go back to their stage before six when they were supposedly set to free roam all night? Looking my wounds over, I also couldn't help but wonder whether or not I should return for another shift. If I did, I risked subjecting myself to more injuries like these… But what if I didn't come back? Would I have enough money to get by?

I sighed and rubbed a finger over one of my bandages, tracing the red streak in the center from the cut in my palm. I shivered at the memory of Bonnie trying to pull me out of the vents before shaking the thought and shifting my attention downward. After lifting my shirt up, I could see that the makeshift stitches were still holding up surprisingly well, though I knew that I would have to have them replaced with actual sutures before long. As for my ankle… Well, while it wasn't the prettiest splint that the world had ever seen, it was surprisingly effective at keeping my ankle fixed in one spot, to such a degree that I was even able to run on it the night prior without anything coming loose.

That aside, I couldn't help but sigh at seeing my own rough condition. I was in bad shape, though it would have been much worse had I not been patched up. Everything that had happened over the last several hours still had my mind buzzing with questions regarding the animatronics, though I knew that I couldn't hang around the office forever to think things through. I would need to rest if I was to survive my next shift- a challenge made all the more daunting by the state I was in. I stood from my seat with a wince before gingerly crossing to my right door. I didn't leave, though, before shooting one last look at the opposite hall… The one leading to Pirate Cove.

"Thanks, Foxy…" I whispered to the empty room, the gratitude in my chest putting a ghost of a smile on my face.

With that as my resignation for the night, I set off down the hall. As I moved, I struggled to turn my awkward hobbling into a natural walk- and while I couldn't quite achieve that effect, I managed to lessen my limping enough that I was comfortable with being seen.

It was only once I spotted a restroom that my self-conscious mind was diverted from my ankle. I figured that I should stop inside to check on myself in the mirror before entering the public eye, just in case there was some other horrifying injury that I wasn't aware of.

I looked into the mirror as soon as I entered the restroom, and it was immediately made clear to me that last night had taken its toll on my body. Aside from my hands, stomach, and ankle, there was also a sizable bruise on my forehead beneath my hair- which was as messy as I had ever seen it, disheveled from the night's events and caked with sweat.

"Oh, man…"

I crossed over to the sink and lifted my bangs to inspect the bruise more closely. It didn't look particularly serious, and was likely the product of my fall, or otherwise banging my head off the vents while fleeing from the animatronics. There was nothing I could really do other than cover it up, so I wet down and tamed my hair until the mark was concealed.

After a while my hair fell as it usually did, and aside from a few stray grazes peppered across my skin, my face looked normal- albeit a bit tired. I stared back into the hazel eyes of my reflection for a long moment, reconsidering my job for the umpteenth time before shaking the thought and turning back for the hallway.

It wasn't a long walk from there to the bustling entrance area. Families big and small were flocking into the building, children laughing and running amok while their parents were being seated and waited on within the sea of tables. I smiled to myself as nostalgia washed over me- I could still remember the excited wonderment that accompanied a childhood trip to Freddy's. Unfortunately, given the events of the past few nights, I doubted that I would ever see this place in a positive light again.

"Alright folks, welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza!" A deep voice boomed out in a welcoming tone that cut through the murmur of the customers.

"A fun place for everyone- even the grown-ups!" A much softer female voice added on.

"Hey, and don't forget the pizza!" Another feminine voice said, its chirpy cadence followed by a round of childlike laughter.

I paused in my walk toward the front doors. _I guess there must be a show going on right now._

Sure enough, when I turned to look in the direction of the voices, I found that they were coming through the wide doorway that led into the show room. Despite the dread that accompanied the thought of my hunters, I felt a curious urge to peek in and watch them perform. I wanted to know what they were like during the day, when this weird glitch of theirs wasn't propelling them to murder people. I looked from the main entrance of the building back to the show room before shrugging. What I was about to do probably wasn't the brightest idea I'd ever had, but what harm could really come from it? I slipped my bandaged hands into my pockets and altered my course.

I slowed to a stop in the show room's doorway and leaned against a wall, hardly paying attention to the children who rushed into the room from beside me. I was much more interested in the jovial nature of the animatronics- unlike the night prior all three were smiling joyfully with bright eyes, energetically looking around at the conglomeration of children who surrounded their stage. Now that I had some decent lighting to observe them with, I took a long moment to look the characters over.

Chica looked just as she had the night before, though when her beak opened now, there was no longer that terrifying set of metallic teeth lining the inside. In the generous light of the stage her feathers were a bright yellow, while her beak and legs were a striking orange. I also noted that her eyes were an energetic purple, a detail that I hadn't seen the last night thanks to their swelled pupils. I still thought that her form was a bit too voluptuous for this setting, given that this was a kid's restaurant without any need for feminine curves on its mascots, but the children didn't seem to mind- or even really notice- in the slightest. In the end, I shook the thought. After all, if _they_ didn't care, then why should I?

Shifting my gaze across the stage to the next animatronic, I could confirm for certain that Bonnie was a female. In the light you could easily see the long eyelashes over her bright red eyes, a detail that was overshadowed by her… _Voluptuous_ form, specifically around the waist. The bow tie at the base of her neck was the same shade of red as her eyes, which helped to break up the purple that covered the rest of her body; a deep indigo spanning most of the space, though a lighter patch of violet covered her belly and- erm… _Chest_. For the most part she also looked the same as she had last night, excluding a large dent on her left hand that I had somehow missed in the dark. It was no doubt a product of hitting her with the flashlight, and was just large enough that some of the wires and endoskeleton were exposed near her wrist, though the damage would be hard to notice if you weren't purposefully looking for it. The last detail of note was the fluffy bunny tail above her rear, an asset that I only noticed thanks to a sudden turn on her part.

That left Freddy… Who quite honestly terrified me. The large brown bear towered above the others, which I knew from experience stood at around my height. He had a giant robotic head atop broad shoulders, and hands that seemed big enough to crush my skull in. He also had a voice so deep that it teetered on sounding unnatural. All things considered, he was akin to nightmare fuel for me- especially in light of my recent discoveries- though he commanded the attention and adoration of the kids below with ease.

I was broken from my thoughts when he tossed his head back to let out a hearty laugh before continuing with his speech.

"Speaking of pizza, how would you all like to hear a song?" He asked with a raised brow. The children cheered, and so the bear chuckled and snapped his black microphone into its stand.

"Let's not keep them waiting, then!" Bonnie cheerfully replied as she lifted her cherry red flying v guitar and draped the strap over her shoulder.

"Alright, guys! Get excited- it's time for 'Cheesed to Meet You'!" Chica giggled and hummed happily as she rounded a short keyboard. It was the same color as Bonnie's guitar, leading me to believe that the restaurant was trying to give their performance a theme- maybe red like pepperoni? Or pizza sauce. Certainly it was something harmless like that, though I couldn't keep myself from also considering the blood of previous night guards.

Whatever the case, it wasn't long before the band broke into song, playing a classic rock homage all about how great pizza was. The music was almost too catchy, and I had to make a conscious effort not to tap my foot to the beat. I also couldn't help but notice that their movements were incredibly lifelike while they played, as they seemed able to do anything that a human could without showing signs of being robotic. Their mannerisms seemed fluid and natural, and as much as I hated to say it, I had to admit that I was impressed by my would-be killers. On both technical and cosmetic levels, their realism was a marvel.

After a few minutes the band stopped playing with promises to continue their performance later, much to the dismay of the children. It was then that a voice conveniently came over the building's intercom, stating that fresh pizza had been served in the entrance area. I thought that the expedient timing of this announcement was a genius way for the restaurant to make money- and an effective one at that, given just how quickly the young mass vacated the room. Before long I was the only one left… Well, aside from the three demonic machines on stage.

The trio never went still or powered down as you might expect of animatronic characters in-between shows. Instead they just stood around on the stage, either casually inspecting their respective instruments or looking around the room with what I guessed to be their standard expressions. This went on for a bit, and for some reason I stayed in the room. Of course it was unsettling to be all alone with them, but it was interesting to see them behave like how they were _meant_ to behave. It was really no wonder why the kids loved them so much, as their conduct now was so innocuous that I almost had trouble believing they were the same characters from the night prior. My interest in them was only offset by a mild fear that they'd try to pull something, though I managed to shake the feeling as I highly doubted that they would act up during the day. After all, weren't they only dangerous once their free roaming modes activated at midnight? That's what the first night's phone call had implied, anyway.

It was then that Bonnie looked up from her guitar and began looking over the room, turning her head slowly as if to see if anyone was still around. It was when her gaze met mine that something interesting happened- her eyes widened marginally, as though she was surprised to see me. For a long moment she continued to stare, unblinking, and I did the same until I had an idea. I lowered my eyes to her damaged hand before returning them to her face, an amused smile barely tugging at my lips. That's right, I was taunting a robot. But not without reason- I had to prove to myself that these were just machines, and that I could hold my own against them in whatever menial way was available to me. In a sense, I was taking the opportunity to face my fears head-on in the hopes that I would be less intimidated by them afterword.

Her eyes narrowed, shifting from surprise into an expression that was hard to read. While I held a staring match with the bunny, the other two caught on and followed Bonnie's gaze to me. Chica's confused stare didn't bother me much; it was Freddy's that sent a shiver down my spine. The towering bear's neutral expression quickly morphed into a glare, his blue eyes flashing dimly as he stared down at me. It was easily the most intimidating thing I had ever seen, but I had to trust that it was happenstance. Machines couldn't emote in the same way that humans did, and given the time, surely they couldn't go against their settings to hurt me. Knowing those things made me feel invincible in that moment, a far cry from how I had been feeling just a few short hours ago.

I maintained the confident look on my face as I stepped away from the wall and walked over to their stage, slowing to a stop just in front of them. I slowly looked each over in-turn, letting their current harmless image settle into my mind beside the memories of black eyes and grasping robotic arms. This was the truth; they were robots, the creation of humans just like me, who were broken. They were dangerous, sure, but as long as I knew the rules, I could handle it. With that revelation, they didn't seem so frightening after all.

"That's right," I spoke after a moment, "I'm still alive."

Just saying those words lifted a sizable weight of anxiety from my shoulders. It didn't matter that they couldn't understand me- it was the reality of the situation. Despite their best efforts, I _had_ survived. That fact filled me with pride, as well as a newfound confidence in myself. With that said and a smile still on my face, I turned from the band and began walking back toward the entrance area.

I only made it a few steps, however, before a voice responded from behind me.

" **Alright Kid-dd,** " Came a stuttering voice, garbled and deep. " **Don't-t-t go anywhere..!** "

My legs tightened from beneath me, freezing me in place just as I felt my blood run cold. I stared at the open doorway ahead of me for a spell, thinking- _hoping_ \- that I had just been hearing things. After all, animatronics can't talk, right? Not like _that_. With a hard gulp, I turned to look back at the stage, and my breath hitched in my throat at what was waiting for me.

Three sets of inky black eyes bored into me, set in seething glares that contradicted their widely grinning mouths. Their expressions were stark bastardizations of the friendly smiles that they had worn for the kids, and the accompanying stillness of their postures made the trio seem all the more unnatural and unrelenting. The moment hadn't even the time to catch up to me when Freddy's mouth opened, allowing that same glitchy, baritone voice to snake through his teeth while his head twitched and bounced about atop his shoulders.

" **We're jus-s-st getting s-s-started~** "

His warped growling seemed to be the product of alterations to his preset phrases, as certain sounds looped and strained as he said them. Not that I knew for certain- nor did I care to find out. By that point my legs had unlocked, and I was quick to rush out of the room without so much as a glance back at the band.

Regardless, I somehow knew that they were still watching me as I fled.

* * *

I didn't look for Mr. Fazbear as I left; I was way too freaked out by my little conversation with Freddy to talk with anyone. Instead, I sped straight to my car and drove away from Freddy's as quickly as I could. I only stopped once on my way home to pick up a first-aid kit from a convenience store, and felt dread challenge my fear as I handed the clerk the last of my money. It was only once I had taken a seat in my car again that I let out a long sigh and pressed my forehead against the steering wheel. If I could just make it to the end of the week, I could spend my paycheck on bills then leave that terrible place forever. I didn't care if finding a job would be tough- I'd go door-to-door asking if people needed their toilets cleaned if that was what it took. Anything would beat going back to that place… To _them_.

Though that was still three days away. If I wanted enough money to keep a roof over my head and gas in the tank, I'd have to finish my week at Freddy Fazbear's. A few flashing mental images of dark halls and glowing blue eyes later, I felt sick. I wanted to curl up somewhere and block out everything that I'd just gone through, but knew that I couldn't afford to do that. After all, I had injuries that needed tending to if I wanted any chance at surviving the remainder of my five nights.

That thought drove me home, and before I knew it I was walking into my apartment with med kit in hand. I flipped the switch beside the door and the bare lightbulb above me flickered and clicked before buzzing to life. I swept my eyes over the place, but it looked just as I had left it- old mattress in the corner beside my secondhand dresser, a few misplaced pieces of clothing strewn about, but otherwise tidy enough. I tossed the small white kit onto my bed, then picked an outfit out of my dresser and passed my alcove of a kitchen on my way into the bathroom. After everything that had happened last night, I needed a warm shower ASAP.

I turned the faucet on and stripped from my sweat-soaked clothes, but didn't hop in before looking over my injuries with a grimace.

"I can probably leave my splint on," I thought aloud before raising my eyes from my ankle to the palms of my hands, "But the bandages…"

I sighed- I was just going to have to bite the bullet on this one. I grabbed the corner of one of the tape tags and took a deep breath before gritting my teeth and abruptly peeling the fabric off. I couldn't help but gasp, though I didn't know if it was a product of pain or seeing my wound for the first time in decent lighting. I tore my eyes from the gash and moved onto the other bandage, my hands already shaking in anticipation of what was to come. Repeating the cycle, I tore the tape off, resulting in a familiarly sharp pain in my palm as the dried blood connecting my skin to the paper was ripped clean off.

Seeing the state my hands were in, I knew that they would have to be stitched up alongside my abdomen… And I wasn't looking forward to the task one bit. One uncomfortable hot shower later, I changed into a fresh set of jeans, though I left my shirt and black jacket off for the time being. Next thing I knew, I was sitting on my mattress staring blankly at the contents of the kit; stitches, a needle, disinfectant, and a few other small odds and ends. As much as I didn't want to proceed, the thought of infection was even less appealing.

I sighed and reached inside the box.

_Here we go._

…

My eyes opened and groggily blinked a few times, clearing the blur from my sight to reveal a much darker room than I last remembered. The blinds of the window above my bed no longer glowed white with midmorning sunlight, prompting me to reach for my phone in a panic to check the time. Luckily it would still be a few hours before the start of my shift, though even thinking about returning caused dismay to clash against my relief. I turned my attention from the phone to the stitching kit that rested beside me on the mattress. I eyed the half-empty set of stitches before shifting the look to my palms. It wasn't pretty, but each cut had been disinfected and closed up before I had apparently passed out. It wasn't much of a consolation, but at least I had made some progress.

Curious about the other cut, I lowered my gaze and gasped- not only was the gash on my stomach still open, but it was looking much worse for wear now that I had removed the thread that Foxy had used to patch me up. It appeared that I hadn't made much more progress than that before passing out from either pain or at seeing the damage up close.

"Damn it…"

I got up and opened one of the drawers of my dresser. After a few seconds of riffling around, I found and old t-shirt and covered the wound to prevent it from bleeding further. After covering any trace of blood with the shirt and jacket from earlier, I began to anxiously pace the room.

 _This isn't good… Not at all. If I pass out during my shift, I'm as good as dead._ I gulped at the thought alone. _I have to get this taken care of, and quick._

I grimaced- I obviously couldn't stitch it myself, and didn't dare get professional help. After all, that sort of care also came with a professional price tag. I paused to let out a long sigh- I really didn't know who else to go to with this, though…

That was when my eyes widened with recollection.

"…Or maybe I do?"

* * *

 

Dustin pulled up to Freddy's and, despite his stinging abdomen warranting immediate attention, paused to look up at the building. He really wasn't comfortable with returning so soon, but he needed serious help if he didn't want to pass out again. Images of the animatronics stumbling upon his collapsed form in the dark caused him to shudder, and before he could continue with the thought, he exited the car and made his way to the front doors. Music and light were still coming from the inside since Freddy's didn't close until 10, but he was still cautious about the animatronic band- especially the restaurant's namesake. By talking earlier, even if only a little and by mixing and matching its preset dialogues, Freddy had brought into question just how aware and smart these machines were. True, Dustin didn't know the first thing about how artificial intelligence "thought", or if it even did at all, though that extra layer of mystery did nothing to ease his apprehension about returning.

The guard made doubly sure that the spare shirt keeping him from bleeding was still adjusted under his jacket. Then, with a long exhale, he made his way inside.

Getting through admittance wasn't difficult, as Mr. Fazbear had apparently given them all explicit permission to let Dustin in whenever he pleased. That made things more convenient, though the lengths that the restaurant's owner went to for a lowly night guard never ceased to make him feel uneasy about sticking around.

The young man had made it most of the way through the entrance area when a hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder. The contact caused Dustin to jump in surprise and whip around with a gasp, though despite his anxious premonitions of inky-eyed animatronics, it was only Mr. Fazbear.

"Ah, Dustin!" The older man greeted with a chuckle, overlooking or otherwise oblivious to the guard's tense reaction, "I was looking forward to chatting with my favorite security guard this morning, but it would seem I missed you."

"O-Oh, that…" The younger paused to rub his arm through his jacket. "I was kind of in a rush from work… Sorry."

"And why would that be?" Mr. Fazbear asked, "Had places to be, boyo?"

"No, sir… It was just…" Dustin looked around before lifting the hem of his jacket up, just far enough to show the bloodied shirt beneath. Mr. Fazbear's grin immediately vanished to be replaced with blatant concern. He, too, looked around before dropping his voice while Dustin once more concealed the spot beneath his clothing.

"What happened?" The elder asked after ensuring that no one had seen.

"It was during my shift last night, sir. You see… The, uh, animatronics-"

"Say no more." Mr. Fazbear said sternly, "This is no place… do you need me to call an ambulance?"

As nice as that sounded, Dustin had already ruled out the possibility. He didn't expect that Mr. Fazbear would pay for the treatment himself, and given how close it was getting to the night shift, he knew that seeking medical attention threatened to cost him the night. Not that it was an unwelcome possibility, but he needed every last cent of his week's paycheck if he was to leave Freddy's anytime soon.

"No, I think I've got it under control now." He half-lied, inwardly praying that his crazy idea for treatment would actually yield results.

Mr. Fazbear shot an unconvinced look back at the guard's jacket, but ultimately nodded. "I see… Well then, I'm sorry to hear about you getting hurt like that, but now's not a great time to continue this conversation- I was just on my way to call up an electrician about the lights in Freddy's eyes. Damn things have been acting up since this morning. How about you come see me in my office just before your shift, and we'll talk about it more there?"

A twinge of fear constricted Dustin's chest as he recalled Freddy's eyes flashing that morning. For all he knew- and hoped for, for that matter- it was just another coincidence that his earlier interaction with the band had aligned with these technical issues. Somehow, though, he couldn't help but doubt it. Regardless, he pushed the thought aside and focused on the present.

"Sounds good. I'll stick around until the start of my shift, then, if that's alright with you."

"Fine by me!" Mr. Fazbear answered, his joyous attitude returning as suddenly as it had vanished. "And in the meantime, feel free to have some pizza! You look like you could use a slice."

"Thanks," Dustin answered as Mr. Fazbear patted his back and walked off, though he wasn't sure if he could stomach food at the moment.

Once the elder had vanished from sight, Dustin began making his way toward Pirate Cove while forcing his eyes away from the open doorway to the show room. A short walk later, he found himself before the curtains that separated Foxy from the rest of the building. He hadn't noticed before then the arrangement of warning signs adorning the curtains- none of which made him more confident in his decision to turn down Mr. Fazbear's offer for an ambulance.

_Oh, well. No going back now…_

He swallowed hard before reaching forward and parting the fabric. The light from the hall illuminated a bit of the large room, though it was still too dark to discern the looming shapes that awaited him. A rattling exhale escaped his lips before he took his first shaking step through the threshold. There was no sign of the fox animatronic, though he knew that it must have been here somewhere. He figured that it must have been hidden behind the scattered piles of crates, just as it had the night prior.

His trembling steps didn't calm as he proceeded. Foxy had helped him once before, true, but there were no promises that it would do so again. For all he knew, some leftover safety programing had compelled it to help him, though once it saw him upright and relatively healthy, would it revert to attacking just as the others did? There was no way to know for sure, and that fact terrified him.

"Hello?" He asked with a slight waver in his voice, wanting above all else to break the suffocating silence of the Cove. "I, uh… I'm back."

While his voice echoed around him, he failed to realize that his company was already aware of his presence- in fact, they had known the moment that he pulled the curtains apart. Golden eyes carefully watched the night guard walk further into the cove, though Foxy made sure to duck behind cover each time his nervous expression turned in her direction. She wasn't sure what his motive was for returning to such a place, as he had clearly run from fear the last time he had been here- though judging by his cautious behavior, she doubted that he meant her any harm. 

Her gaze trailed down his form until they found rest on a bit of wood that stuck out from below his pant leg. It seemed he had kept the splint she had given him, which made her… Happy, somehow. She also noted that he had concealed the bruise on his forehead with his hair. All things considered, he was looking much better than he had the night prior.

_That's good…_

While Foxy observed her company, he continued to walk further into the Cove. His hazel eyes flitted about the piles of crates in desperate search of the fox, but to no avail. He wanted to leave, but knew that he couldn't. If Foxy could patch him up so well with things it had scrounged up from storage crates, then surely it could work wonders if given proper medical equipment… That was, if it would even help him at all. The lingering fear that it would turn on him like the others had made him constantly reevaluate his decision to return here. He shot an apprehensive look back at the golden part in the curtains, and considered running away again. After a long moment, though, he clinched his fists and turned his back on the exit.

"Foxy? I know you're in here…"

Her face grew warm when she heard him say her name. It was the first time in years that someone had addressed her like that, and the longing and nostalgia that consumed her at the sound nearly convinced her to step out from hiding. She didn't, though. Not before she knew what this was all about.

"Look… About last night…" He lowered his conflicted expression to the ground while rubbing his arm sheepishly. "I never thanked you for helping me, and that was wrong. So… Thank you."

Her head tilted at him from behind her crate, her ears perked to catch everything he said. He was obviously still afraid of this place- of her- and yet he came back to thank her? After spending so long alone, the concept seemed foreign. She couldn't fully sort out what he had said, though, before he continued.

"And also, I came to apologize."

This caught her even more off guard. What could he possibly be sorry for? She peeked out of the shadows marginally, just enough to watch him while he spoke.

"I… shouldn't have run off like that. You helped me when there was nothing in it for you, and I just ran away." His thoughts were broken up by a curt sigh. "I feel bad about it. I was just too scared at the time to realize that you weren't trying to hurt me."

He nervously chuckled under his breath. "I hope that's still the case… But anyway, I just wanted you to know that I'm grateful for what you did- and I'm glad that you're still here."

That last bit struck her heart directly. Her eyes widened, and she felt her body freeze up. Someone _actually_ cared enough to visit her, to express their gratitude- and not only that, but they were thankful that she was still alive. While she remained rooted in place, struggling to process all she had just heard, Dustin waited for a reply that he knew wouldn't come. In the end, Foxy was an animatronic- and no matter how technologically impressive the Freddy's characters were, they couldn't speak… Not in the same way that people could, at least. He had said those things for himself above all, to fill the tense silence and get some weight off his chest at the same time.

After many seconds had scraped by without any sort of response, he sighed again and turned back toward the curtains. "I don't know what I was expecting… Anyway, thanks again. Take care of yourself."

He walked toward the curtains with his shoulders slumped. He had said what he wanted to say, which made him feel a bit better about last night, though he was still injured and his shift was fast approaching. Maybe he would have to eat crow and ask Mr. Fazbear for that ambulance after all. If he begged hard enough, maybe his boss would either cover the cost of treatment or refrain from docking his pay for this week.

_Yeah, right._

He _really_ didn't want to have to work here for longer than necessary, but there was no doubt that the situation would set him back considerably. Up until that point he had reserved some small hope that Foxy would walk right up and fix him, though looking back, that had always been a pipe dream. It was an animatronic designed to entertain children, not a robotic nurse.

By the time he had taken the purple fabric between his fingers once more, he was feeling hopeless and silly to have tried this in the first place. _Of course_ Foxy wouldn't understand him… It was a machine, after all. He finally gave up on the idea completely as he pulled the curtains apart once again, shifting his focus to what he would say to Mr. Fazbear when he saw him. In that moment he was prepared to leave the Cove forever, to step out of that stifling darkness for the last time- though just as he made to walk into the light of the halls, a small voice stopped him in his tracks.

"W-wait!"

His leading foot froze just as it passed the threshold. All at once his breath caught in his throat and his eyes began to widen. For the second time that day, he wanted to believe that he had been hearing things, though the soft echo of the command disproved the possibility. Slowly, carefully, he pulled his foot back into the Cove and turned to face the voice.

It stood a few short meters away from him, its rose red fur bathed in the orangish light of the hall. Its striking golden eyes pierced into his own, even as its face was lowered shyly. True to the animal it was based off, it boasted large ears that were lowered with uncertainty- a contrast to the fluffy tail that swayed slowly from behind it with tentative excitement. Like its brethren, it stood bipedally at a height only just beyond Dustin's own, and emulated a woman's figure with curves at the hips, waist, and bust. Also like the others, it wore a single article of clothing; an eyepatch over the right eye, raised so that its whole gaze could rest on him.

"I'm here."

He had seen its mouth move in time with the words, though even then, he had trouble believing that it had actually spoken. The dialogue was too specific to be preset, and its naturally soft tone was a harsh contrast to the garbled growling that Freddy had used that morning. It was mildly raspy from disuse, but otherwise sounded just like an ordinary person. The act was made all the more impressive by the fact that its jaw hung slightly uneven from the rest of its head- only one of a few signs of disrepair, as its joints quietly creaked with each movement. Cosmetic improvements aside, he could vividly remember Foxy wearing a cargo vest and tarp pants when he was a kid… Details that were now missing, which made the animatronic seem naked and vulnerable- all despite the coat of fur covering anything that could be deemed intimate, as well as the imposing hook that took the place of its left hand.

"F-Foxy?" He managed to ask despite his shock and mild intimidation, "You can… Talk?"

To his surprise, it covered its mouth and made a giggling sound. For her part, Foxy found his confusion and shock rather amusing, even though she herself was surprised that her voice hadn't had a malfunction yet.

"Yes, I c-can." She answered slowly as she turned to avoid eye contact with him. She wasn't used to someone paying her this much attention, and his blatant gawking made her face feel hot. Her reaction didn't go unnoticed by Dustin, who was still struggling to believe how realistic Foxy's behavior was. A reserved giggle here, a demure blush there- it made him scold himself for being so rude as to stare, fearing that he was somehow making the animatronic uncomfortable. The irony of that thought wasn't lost on him, as he realized that it should really be the other way around.

"Wait… You understand me?" He breathed as he turned to completely face her, "You just answered me… But how is that possible?"

She began to anxiously toy with her hook, her eyes darting to his face before quickly looking away again. "Yes, I understand you… A-And I answer you by talking… Just like this."

While her response had been innocent, he couldn't help but feel stupid.

"Right, of course…" He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, "Sorry if I seem surprised, it's just that… Well, you know-"

"-You probably expected me to sound like _this_ … Right?"

He watched in amazement as her body shuddered with a creak before her eyepatch flipped down. She raised her hook into the air while her jaw fell completely open, allowing a crackly voice to fill the area.

" _Yar, so a landlubber discovered ol' Foxy's dwellin'? I oughta make ye walk the plank fer that!_ "

The voice that came out was much louder and more outward than the previous, and Dustin couldn't help but chuckle as she swung her hook around proudly, pulling off a perfect pirate impression. It was a convincing act, and one that took him back to a time when he was watching her perform on stage amongst countless enamored children.

His smile remained even after she had stopped. "Well… Yeah. Something like that."

"That was my preset voice… For-r-r shows." She replied in her previous voice while her eyepatch again raised. "All of th-the animatronics have them…"

"Wow, I never knew that." There was a bit of renewed awe in his expression as he looked her over. "So this is your natural voice, then?"

She nodded in response, and the room fell silent for a moment. Dustin had only then been struck with the realization that, as crazy as it was, he was actually having a conversation with an animatronic. He had gotten so caught up in the excitement and wonder of learning more about Foxy that he had quickly gotten over his fear of it- though that must have been at least partially due to how persuasive its shy demeanor was. Disregarding the metal hook or doubtless robotic strength that the animatronic before him possessed, Foxy seemed to be the embodiment of helplessness and timidity. Those traits, along with its ability to perform basic medical procedures, implied that some incredibly clever programming was involved here- programming that was also impressive enough to let her speak with a human so effectively. That raised a question, though…

"So wait…" He started slowly, "If you could talk all this time, then why did you screech at me like that yesterday?"

Her reserved expression quickly morphed into an apologetic one. "I'm sorry… I-I only meant to introduce m-myself, but my v-v-voice is _ **sssSSSSS-**_ "

Without warning, a deafening screech tore from her mouth. Dustin's hands shot to his ears in an attempt to dull the ear-splitting noise, while Foxy's eyes widened in horror. She clapped her hand and hook over her mouth, though the terrible noise continued to echo even as Dustin shook his head of the sudden ringing in his ears.

"What… Was that?" He asked with a layer of concern in his voice- though neither knew whether it was for her sake or his own.

"I-I'm so sorry…" She whispered through her covered mouth, "I… Really can't help it…"

"No, no… It's fine." He assured her, "That must be what happened last night too, right? Do you know what causes it?"

She shook her head. "I th-th-think it's something inside m-my voice box… It's damaged and I never-r got it replaced…" She barely spoke above a whisper, afraid that talking any louder would trigger another malfunction.

It was then that he realized her vocal stuttering wasn't due to nervousness- well, at least not entirely. Instead, it seemed to be some sort of catch in her vocal capabilities, like when a record scratches and loops certain segments of audio. As for the screeching, he had no idea what the cause could be, or why it sounded so similar to the others. The trend seemed to be that she made the sound when her vocal volume rose past a certain level, though that was only guesswork. All he knew for sure was that he never wanted to hear that noise again, as he didn't like how frightening or pained it sounded.

"But the other animatronics sound fine…" His eyes lowered as he scratched his chin in thought. "As far as I can tell, they can choose whether or not to scream like that- otherwise, there's no way they could perform for the kids every day. So why would _you_ have this problem and not them?"

When he raised his eyes from the floor once more, he found her staring at the ground with a somber expression. She rubbed her hook arm with her good hand before answering.

"I'm not on display anymore, so nobody bothered to fix m-my… Issues."

Dustin shook his head in distaste. After seeing some of the amazing things she was capable of, it seemed wrong to throw Foxy into a dark room to rot. As far as he could tell, it was perfectly fine to perform with the exception of a few technical problems, and still seemed like it would do a great job entertaining the customers.

 _Something must have happened with Foxy,_ he thought to himself. _And it had to have been pretty bad for Mr. Fazbear to just throw a whole animatronic away like this._

Something had to be going on, and he wanted to know what... But it didn't seem like a good time to try sorting that out. Instead, he made a mental note to ask Mr. Fazbear about it later.

The room fell silent while Dustin was thinking about that. It was only after a moment that Foxy spoke up again.

"May I ask-k what your name is..?"

"Uh- oh yeah, of course." He shook the thought and gave her a small smile, "I'm Dustin Juniper. I'm the new night guard here- but you already knew that."

Out of habit he held out his hand for her to shake, and she hesitated only for a moment before lowering her face and returning the gesture. He hadn't accounted for how strange it would feel to shake a furry hand, nor could he have expected the familiar warmth that he felt radiating from her touch.

 _They even have body heat?_ He thought as he shot a curious glance at her hand, _I knew that they were impressive and all, but just how human are these things?_

"And I'm F-Foxy… But you already knew t-that." She murmured as she released his hand. "Any-nyway… I wanted to thank you, Dustin."

"For what?" He chuckled, " _I'm_ the one that should be thanking _you_ after what you did last night."

"Well…" She paused to hold her arms behind her back, nervously toying with her hook once again. "It's just that I-I-Is _ **sssSSSSS-**_ "

The hiss escalated into another piercing shriek, and Dustin couldn't help but cry out in shock as he once again braced against the sound. He kept his eyes screwed shut with a wince until after the shriek had gone, hoping that nobody else in the building would hear and come to investigate- though when he opened his eyes again and saw the shock and heartbreak on Foxy's face, he pushed the thought aside.

"Foxy?" He asked as he rubbed the side of his head, "It's alright. Really, everything's fine."

Unfortunately, this time around she didn't seem as assured. Instead of answering him like before, she slowly began backing away with her hand still held tightly over her mouth below two hurt eyes.

"…Foxy?" He repeated as he took a small step toward her.

He couldn't say more before she turned from him and lowered into a crouch. He could see her hand rise from her muzzle to wipe at her eyes while a faint sniff reverberated off the walls.

"I'm sorry…" She turned enough so that one of her eyes looked up at him from over her shoulder, a wet streak connecting it to her jawline. "You should go…"

As she looked away once more, Dustin didn't know if he was more concerned or confused. Was Foxy really crying? How? He had accumulated more questions over the past few minutes than he knew what to do with, and yet he couldn't bring himself to search for the answers in that moment. Before he knew it, and without any specific reasoning, he found himself walking forward.

Foxy remained hunched down, fighting to keep her tears from dripping onto the floor below. She didn't know why she was like this- why she couldn't even talk without frightening others. He could tell her that it was alright, that everything was fine, but he couldn't completely hide how he really felt. She had seen the look on his face; the fear and uncertainty when she made those sounds. It was the same expression he had made when he saw her the night prior.

He was scared of her, just like everyone else was.

She had become so engrossed in these thoughts that she failed to notice his approach. In truth, she had expected him to leave by then- though she flinched when something brushed against her fur. She shot a look at her right shoulder to find an arm draped over it, and when she looked to her left, his face was waiting mere inches from her own.

She felt her cheeks grow warm again, but in her surprise, she couldn't bring herself to look away from his hazel eyes. They looked into her own without the level of fear that she had anticipated. Instead, they looked curious, confused, and… Something else. Something she couldn't figure out, but appreciated nonetheless.

Meanwhile, Dustin looked into the animatronic's face and was amazed. Now that he was so close, he could see something beyond his understanding reflected in its eyes. He had expected cameras, sensors, plastic and lights- though despite their close proximity, he couldn't pick out any of these things. They very well may have been there, but they were masked by the way that tears laced through eyelashes, and how black pupils absorbed their golden irides at the sight of him. It all just seemed so _real_. The emotions, the speech… Everything.

Until that point, he had attributed the unexplained to a series of glitches and coincidences, if not a load of tricky programing on behalf of some genius roboticist somewhere. Was it overkill for a band of anthropomorphic animals at a kids' restaurant to have these capabilities? Sure, but at least the guard could conjure up vague explanations for the things he didn't understand. At that moment, though, he saw something beyond technology- or at least beyond his understanding of it. Within those widening pupils was a dying light, a spark that had almost been reduced to cinders. He recognized it because he, too, had once been so broken down that the fire of life in his eyes was left barely flickering. It was still burning inside of Foxy, though, and its presence confirmed something incredible to Dustin.

As far as he could tell, Foxy wasn't an _it_ at all- it was a she. And _she_ was broken.

He didn't know how that conclusion was remotely possible, nor did he know how long she had been sectioned off into this dark, dingy excuse for Pirate Cove, but it had been far too long. The hurt, unconfident character before him could have been the product of a deep emotional toll, or it could have been a part of who she had always been. Like so many other things about her, he didn't know- either way, seeing her in this state both enraged and saddened him. Regardless of why she was abandoned, she was still the same Foxy that entertained thousands, and the one who had saved him mere hours ago.

His head should have been whirling with all this new information, though he somehow managed to remain focused on her current state rather than what she was.

"Look," He began after a long moment had passed, "I don't know much about you or your situation, and you might not believe me right now… But everything is going to be okay. I promise."

Foxy continued to stare at him with wide eyes for a moment before nodding and wiping her eyes clear again with a sniff. He smiled at her as reassuringly as he could, which seemed to have the desired effect. The edges of her mouth upturned a bit themselves, though she couldn't respond before a sound caught her attention.

_Dink!_

Foxy followed the source of the noise and gasped when she saw a dark drop on the tile beneath Dustin, followed soon by another. She traced her eyes from the small puddle up to the hem of his jacket, where another was already converging.

She gasped. "Y-you're bleeding!"

"Yeah, that's the other thing…" He started while sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, "I tried to stitch myself up after I got home this morning, but…. Well, I couldn't finish it on my own. I'm sorry to ask for your help again so soon, but could you do this for me?"

He pulled the stitching kit from his jacket pocket to demonstrate what he was asking, though by that point she already seemed to have made up her mind. She took the small box in her good hand and immediately popped it open to look inside.

"Please lie d-d-down," She fished out a small bottle, as well as a needle. "And lift your shirt, please…"

He quickly complied, and they both grimaced at the sight. The wound was open like it had been the night before, though now the risk of infection was much higher.

"Sorry," He gave a dry chuckle, "I guess I made things worse, huh?"

She didn't answer, and instead readied the small spray bottle of disinfectant. "This might hurt…"

"Believe me, I know. It's alright."

She nodded before spraying the burning liquid onto the wound. Dustin hissed as the heat spread throughout his abdomen, and she paused long enough to let him recover before covering the rest of the cut. Once the medicine was applied, she pulled out the needle and prepared it with sutures. The anticipation of what was to come made him grimace, though he was pleasantly surprised after the needle's first pass through his skin. It hurt, sure, but much less than he had expected, and certainly less than it had when he tried doing it himself. He lifted his amused gaze to Foxy's face as she worked, finding her concentrated expression much more pleasant to watch than her work, though before long he couldn't help but marvel at how well she did her job. Her hands bound the incision in steady, precise movements, and once again he couldn't help but be amazed by how fluid the animatronics' actions were.

"Wow… You're really good at this." He said after a few minutes, "Compared to when I tried it, I barely feel a thing."

She smiled in response, her cheeks somehow growing even redder than they already were. He considered talking more, but knew that she struggled with speech and didn't want to make her feel bad again. The silence left him plenty of opportunity to think things through, though the amount of questions he had about Foxy- and by extension, the restaurant as a whole- were so mountainous that he didn't even know where to begin. Rather than focus on how and why she was the way she was, he instead tried to think of practical things he could do with what little information he already had. After a bit, he had an idea.

_She's obviously really upset that her voice doesn't work like it used to… Maybe I should ask Mr. Fazbear about it when I go to see him later._

It could have been more wishful thinking on his part, but Dustin couldn't help but wonder if his boss knew of some way to repair Foxy's voice. If so, that might be the perfect way to repay her for patching him up- not to mention, a good first step toward making her life here even a little better.

The remainder of the procedure went quietly, as Foxy was focused on the task at hand and Dustin was either lost in thought or idly looking around the Cove. Despite the silence, it never felt awkward between the two, and before long, Foxy finished what she was doing and severed the remainder of the thread.

Dustin's eyes returned to the gash at the sound, and found that it had been neatly sewn together in a surprisingly short amount of time.

"Wow, done already?"

Foxy nodded with a small smile before taking a moment to inspect her work. After she was content with the stitching, she helped him to his feet. He noticed the concerned look on her face when he reached down to run a finger along the stitches and chuckled.

"Don't worry, I'll be careful… Hey, it already feels better!"

She made a sound somewhere between a hum and a chuckle in her throat, which drew his eyes back toward her own.

"Thanks again, Foxy…" He began with a smile, "Who knows what would have happened without you here to help me."

"You're welcome," She answered slowly as to keep her voice from malfunctioning, "It was nice… be-being able to help someone again."

His smile remained, even as his eyes grew sad at hearing that. "Well… You did a really great job."

She lowered her face as she gave another shy smile, and after a brief moment of silence Dustin turned toward the curtains. "Sorry to heal and run, but Mr. Fazbear wanted to talk to me before my shift started. I don't want to keep him waiting, so I should really get going."

She nodded in understanding, but he could see the sorrow instantly return to her expression. Was it the prospect of being left alone again that made her look so sad? Either that or the mention of Mr. Fazbear, who was likely the one who stowed her away in the first place. Regardless, he fought off the pang of sympathy in his chest and turned to favor the curtains.

"See you later, Foxy."

"Bye, Dustin."

With that, he made his way back out through the part in the curtains. Once he had ensured that they were left just how he had found them, he stopped and blew out through his cheeks, still amazed by all that had just occurred. He took a moment to replay it all in his head before a nearby wall clock caught his eye. By the look of things, the building would be closed to the public in ten minutes, which left him just over two hours before the start of his shift- plenty of time to chat with Mr. Fazbear.

As he turned and began making his way down the empty hall, he only hoped that his boss would have some of the answers he sought.


End file.
